The Student Exchange Program
by Lyrannae
Summary: Our favorite Circle group is invited to experience a year at Hogwarts. Friendships form and their magical talents grow. But despite the sunshine, darkness is always lurking in the background. CoM/HP5. Rated T, just in case. **ON HIATUS** I am doing major re-writes; please see my profile for details.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 – Dumbledore's Idea

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in."

A man entered the room. He had stringy black hair and wore a long, black cloak over his clothes, making him look remarkably like a bat as he walked over to the desk.

The elderly man sitting at the desk glanced up. "Ah, it's you, Severus. I gather you received my message?"

"Yes, Dumbledore. That is why I am here."

The man Dumbledore glanced down at the letter he held in his hands, eyes thoughtful behind a pair of half-moon glasses. "Hmmm... interesting..." he murmured to himself as he read.

"I think this is a bad idea, Dumbledore," the black-haired man said bluntly.

"And why is that, Severus? A student exchange program would be an exciting opportunity for our school to participate in," Dumbledore pointed out.

"True, but I don't like this idea of a multi-world program. There are so many types of magic out there; it will be very difficult for the students to relate with each other anyway."

Dumbledore paused for a moment. "I do agree with you on that point; however, Winding Circle works with magic quite similar to our own in concept, though of course the method they use it is quite different. I think the students will have more in common than they think."

Professor Snape shook his head. "I still think this is a mistake. Otherworldly relations are not the best to be engaging in at present, especially with the Dark Lord's return."

"It is unlikely that teenaged witches and wizards from a world other than our own will be siding with Lord Voldemort."

Snape winced. "Please, Dumbledore, do not say his name in front of me."

"Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself."

"Yes, yes, you have said that many times," he sighed. "That does not mean it is wise to use it on a regular basis."

"Still..." Dumbledore looked once again at the letter in his hands. "I think I will be agreeing to do this, at least for one year. Our experience last year with Durmstrang and Beaxbatons was so positive; I think it would be wise to try this as well."

"Whatever you say, Dumbledore."

Dumbledore smiled at Snape. "Put aside your prejudices on the matter; not all strange students will have negative impacts on our own."

"I'm not prejudiced," growled Snape, looking positively furious at the accusation.

"If you say so," murmured Dumbledore as he pulled out a quill. Dipping it in the pot of ink at his side he quickly scrawled something at the bottom of the letter. Rolling it up, he tapped it with his wand, and it vanished with a faint _pop_.

"Now, I think a Portkey just might work for transporting the students. I will give you the information you need to set one up, Severus. If you can talk to the other teachers as well and let them know that we can expect the exchange students about one week after school starts, that would be good."

Snape nodded stiffly and turned to walk out of the room. He was almost out of the door when he was called back.

"Oh, Severus?"

He turned and faced Dumbledore. "Yes?"

"When the exchange students arrive, please try not to frighten them too much. I've seen how some of our own students act around you." Dumbledore chuckled. "It is not a fate I would wish upon strangers."

The side of Snape's mouth twisted up in what was almost a smile. "As you say, Dumbledore. I cannot guarantee anything though." Turning, he walked out of the room.

Sitting back in his chair, Dumbledore pondered the exchange program he had just signed up for. "So much to plan..." he said softly. Dorms, food, lessons... ah well. That he would do tomorrow. Now was his resting time. He pulled a little paper bag out of his desk drawer. Opening it up, he looked around inside before pulling out a lemon drop and popping it into his mouth. He lifted up a book from the top of his desk and flipped it open to where he had been reading it.

A faint snort interrupted him, and he glanced up. The black-haired portrait of Phineas Nigellus glared down at him.

"In my day," he said in his thin, reedy voice, "a proper Headmaster did not loiter around when there was work to be done!"

"Your day is over, Phineas," Dumbledore replied as he turned back to his book. "Hogwarts has experienced many changes since your time; and, I feel, will experience many more." Turning the page he continued to read.

Phineas snorted again and muttered something under his breath.

"Besides, this book is absolutely fascinating, all about the theories of Time and how it differs in parallel universes," Dumbledore pointed out as he ate another lemon. "It's an amazing topic."

"I'm sure it is," Phineas said in a bored tone as he sat back down in his chair.

Once again the office was quiet. It was a kind, restful quiet; yet of course, such times of quiet often occur before times of noise.

This time, it was the calm before the storm.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** Forgot to add this last time! Sorry! But yeah, I don't own HP or Circle of Magic; I don't even own Winding Circle or Hogwarts... as you might have guessed by now... he he.

Chapter 2 – The Start of the Journey

She opened her eyes... and couldn't see anything.

For a moment she was disorientated; was she back in the cellar room? The darkened room in which she had spent several months, slowly going crazy after the attack upon her parents?

Then she remembered where she was. Where was her light? She always had to have light with her, ever since that day long ago.

Screwing her eyes shut, she fumbled around on the small bedside table next to her. At last her hands touched the leather pouch that held her miniature sun inside. She pulled it open and took out the stone.

Opening her eyes, she saw at once the beautiful, cracked diamond. Rays of light streamed from the facets of the gemstone. Her foster siblings had made it for her after the earthquake; she would be eternally grateful for it, for her respite from the dark.

Sandrilene fa Toren trembled with relief as she laid it gently back on the table. Some said her fear of night was silly, but she knew the truth. Months in the dark would drive anyone crazy. She was proof of that.

She got dressed in the light of her stone, quickly pulling on a light blue dress the exact shade of her eyes. The golden threads she had embroidered in it accented her light, honey-brown hair. Pulling a brush through it, she then gently tied her beautiful mage's medallion around her neck, making sure it rested against her body in just the right place. The medallion had the names of her and her teacher carved into one side, and on the back were symbols representing Winding Circle temple where she studied.

Opening the door of her first-floor room, she stepped out into the center of the building. A table was set up in the middle of the room, and her teacher Lark was hurrying back and forth from the kitchen, laying out trays of food on the table as her light brown skirts brushed against the floor.

Seeing Sandry, Lark smiled at her. Coming closer, she whispered in her soft voice, "Can you go wake up the others? I'd ring the bell, but it's so loud it would wake up half the town."

Sandry grinned at her teacher. "Sure, no problem."

Lark smiled back and went back into the kitchen. Sandry meanwhile walked over to her foster-brother Briar's room.

Knocking softly on the door, she opened it and peered inside. "Briar?" she called in a whisper. When there was no answer she walked in.

He wasn't in his bed, not that she was surprised by that. Sandry looked around the room and saw that he was sitting at his worktable, his back to her. His hands were wrapped around the base of his miniature _shakkan_ tree. Either he was so deep in his magic he hadn't heard her, or he had fallen asleep at his desk again. A moment later, she heard a faint snore – so much for that question.

"Briar," she repeated, going over to tap him on the shoulder. When he didn't respond she shook him gently.

Almost immediately he leapt up. His hand shot instantly to the knife he kept on top of his desk. Turning around he saw it was only her, and with a rueful grin he put the knife back down.

"Sorry, Sandry," he said in his rough accent. "Just another one of my thief habits."

"That's okay, I understand," she replied. "Did you forget what day it is?"

"No... Just a few hours ago I was awake. But my tree, it needed some more pruning done..." he added, gesturing towards it. Suddenly he seemed to realize that he was standing there in just a pair of breeches.

"Hey, get out of my room!" Pushing her to the door, he slammed it shut behind her.

Sandry sighed and shook her head. Turning, she walked back down the hall to a twisting wooden staircase that led to the second floor. She skipped up it to her foster sister's rooms.

Her sister Tris' door was open; she was standing in the balcony. Gusts of wind whipped around her as she stood there, eyes closed and a smile on her face. No sooner had Sandry walked into the room than Tris turned around.

"Tell Lark I'll be right down," she said immediately. "I just need to fill up my braids. Who knows when I'll next get the chance?"

Sandry nodded and walked back out. She knew better than to disrupt Tris when she was working with her magic. To some her words made no sense; but to her siblings they made perfect sense. Most mages had a box or container that held their mages' kits, but Tris used her braids. She somehow was able to tie wind, storms and even lightning into her fiery red hair. Braided correctly it could be a deadly weapon against her enemies, as they'd found out recently.

Farther down the hall was Daja's room. She also was already awake, and opened the door to walk out just as Sandry was coming towards her. Unlike Tris and Sandry, Daja wasn't wearing a dress; instead she wore breeches and a clean tunic.

Daja had a very different background than the rest of them. She was a Trader, from a nomadic family. Because of this she had very different beliefs and clothing styles than the rest of them. Her carved staff was her most prized possession.

On her hand was what appeared to be a metal glove, but upon closer observation really was fitted tightly to her skin. It was living metal; it grew and changed shape as living things did. Daja had gotten it welded to her skin while fighting a huge fire that had nearly killed them all. The top of her staff had melted all over her hand, and she was left with her 'glove'.

"Breakfast already?" she asked Sandry.

"What so you mean, already? It's not even five o'clock."

Daja grinned. "I know. I love mornings. I've been awake since 3."

"You're going to be exhausted, you know," Tris warned as she walked out of her room. Carefully she tied up her long hair with the ribbons she had enchanted before weaving a veil through it in the style she always wore.

Talking among themselves, the three sisters went down the staircase. Behind them followed a big, fluffy white dog. He stopped at the top of the stairs.

When they got to the bottom, Tris glanced behind them. "Come on, Bear," she called, snapping her fingers. Eagerly the dog they had named Little Bear bounded down the stairs, collapsing at her feet.

Briar was already sitting at the circular wooden table. Sandry was pleased to see that he was wearing the brand-new short-sleeved tunic she had sewn for him recently. When she had given it to him, he had been very surprised – he usually didn't wear short sleeves. Briar thought maybe she was trying to get him more into fashion, which of course he didn't care about in the least, and Sandry had gone along with that theory. The real reason which she hid from him was that with short sleeves, he would have at least two less knives that he could hide in his clothing. She didn't want to get them kicked out of their new school because of Briar smuggling knives into it.

"So, what's the place we're goin' to called again?" he asked through a mouthful of food.

Tris glared at him. "Oh, grow up, Briar. Your eating habits are as disgusting as ever."

Briar shrugged nonchalantly. "Who cares how you eat so long as it gets in your mouth?" he asked her. He seemed to enjoy teasing her, and purposely went out of his way to do it.

Lark frowned at him. "Really, Briar, Tris is right; you shouldn't talk with your mouth full. It's not very appealing."

Once again the former 'street rat' shrugged, but didn't push it.

Sandry sighed. "The school we're going to is called Hogwarts; it's located somewhere near a place called England. According to the latest letter, we'll be going by Portkey to a place named Diagon Alley, where we can go shopping for school supplies. Then we'll be tavelling by train to the school."

"Hmm. Cool. But what's Portkey?"

Tris glanced up from the book she was reading. "It's called _a_ Portkey, not just Portkey. Apparently it's some sort of transporter; they somehow set it up to move people to different places." Flipping the page she turned back to her book.

Daja nodded. "That makes sense. I mean, how else will we get to a different world, apart from magic?"

"It's a pretty interesting theory," Sandry agreed. Gracefully she scooped up a spoonful of porridge and ate it; having been raised in court, her eating style was the exact opposite of Briar's. Turning to Lark, she asked, "Do you remember the name of the teacher? The one who sent the message?"

"I think so... let's see." Lark thought a moment and then said, "I believe he actually was the leader of the school, they call him a Headmaster. His name was... Dumbledore. At least, that's what he signed on the letter."

"_Dumbledore?_" Briar snorted. "What sorta mage name is that?" Shaking his head he went on, "And to think I thought Nico's name was weird."

"Nico's name is not weird!" Tris cried, defending her primary magic teacher. "Niklaren is a perfectly common name. And his last name, Goldeye, is perfectly chosen to describe the types of sight magic he can do."

"Yeah, but _Dumbledore_?" Briar repeated. "Honestly, what sort of crazy, otherworldly name is that?"

"Well, they do live in a completely different universe," Daja pointed out. "Maybe their names don't mean anything there; magic-wise, that is."

"Still, bet he got teased a lot, eh?" Briar laughed. "I mean, honestly, his name practically _shouts_ his supposed unintelligence."

Sandry sighed. "I don't care what you think, Briar, just don't go telling him, or anyone for that matter. I don't want you to get in trouble our first day there."

"What about our second day? Is it still open?" Briar joked.

Sandry rolled her eyes at him and continued to eat. Briar could be funny – he had what could kindly be called a unique sense of humour – but sometimes it was best to ignore him rather than starting a never-ending argument.

Lark wiped her hands off on a napkin and asked the group, "Have you packed your bags yet?"

Daja nodded. "I packed a few sets of clothes, my metal-working supplies and my mage's kit."

"That sounds good. How about you, Tris?"

"Umm... yeah... I'm all packed," Tris said distractedly as she read her book. "I have some of my books and clothes, and lots of spare hair ribbons."

"Same here," Sandry put in. "I packed my sewing kit and hand loom, as well as my mage's kit of course, as well as clothing and a sketch pad, in case I get any ideas while travelling."

"Good," Lark nodded. "Briar, have you done your packing?"

Briar glanced up and shook his head. "I just need to stuff my clothes into a bag and I'll be good. My mage's kit is already full; I packed all my pruning equipment since I'm bringing my _shakkan_. And don't worry, I've got plenty of knives with me." He turned to Sandry with his most annoying smile. "I figured out your short-sleeves plan, by the way. Nice try; but honestly, how did you expect to trick a thief?"

Sandry glared at him. How had he guessed her plan?

A gruff voice behind him made Briar jump out of his chair in surprise. "You better not be bringing any knives up to the school, or I'll hang you in the well."

"Oh, um, hi, Rosethorn... I didn't notice you there," Briar said nervously. "Um, I was just joking about the knife thing..."

"Good. You better have been." The stout Rosethorn stood facing the table and, with her back to Briar, winked at Sandry. The sharp-tongued earth mage was very much like Tris; she was stern and quick-tempered but had a nicer, albeit rarely shown, side. Briar, despite having learned this, still didn't mess with her.

"Come on, boy," she instructed him now, "get you off to your room and finish packing! You all should be out of here by dawn to get to the Portkey on time."

"Yes, Rosethorn," grumbled Briar as he slid his chair back and stomped off to his room.

"So, girls, while we're waiting for Briar to get his things together, you may as well bring your bags outside in front of the front door. I've arranged for a wagon to take you down to the shore, where the Portkey will be," Lark said to them.

Sandry got up and went to her room. She picked up her bag and placed it on her bed. Reaching down she lifted a large, wooden box off the floor.

Inside the box was her mage's kit. It appeared to be an ordinary sewing basket, but really everything inside it was enchanted with her special cloth magic. Recently, Briar had found this out – he had tried giving himself tattoos with needles from her mage kit. Now he had ink flowers that grew, moved, and put out flowers beneath his skin.

Sandry smiled slightly as she went through her mage kit. With her hands inside it, touching the instruments she used in her daily life, she felt more at home than ever. It seemed to bring her closer to her magic, in a way.

She was what some jokingly called a 'stitch witch'. Her powers had strong connections with string and yarn. She had learned this only a few years ago when, using a spinning tool, she had spun their magic together to create a web of interlocking metal, vines, and a lot of pure magic that kept them safe when they had been exploring underground and an earthquake had nearly crushed them to death.

Carefully she lifted up the box and her bag and carried them outside. Lark was talking to a man she didn't recognize. Beside him was a horse tied to a small wagon.

The man helped her lift up her things into the wagon, and once her sisters came out he helped them as well. They stood there a few more minutes, just looking around at their home that they would be leaving. Tris sat on the ground, her face against Little Bear's side, whispering comfortingly to him. He would miss them when they were gone.

At last Briar stumbled out of the house, his bag in one arm and his _shakkan_ cradled against his chest. The cart-driver immediately ran over to help him lift his possessions into the cart.

The four of them climbed into the cart and sat on a low bench that ran along the inside of the wagon. With a _giddy-up!_, the horse trotted forward.

Waving, the foster siblings rode away from their only home. Lark and Rosethorn called good-byes behind them, and Bear barked and tried to chase after the wagon until Lark called him back, at which point he settled himself at her feet and howled mournfully after them.

Facing forwards into the sun, Sandry squinted ahead to watch the winding road in front of them. Ahead, just a few hours drive away, was the harbour where they would find the Portkey and travel onward into another world. She was nervous about going to a place she had never even heard of, but at the same time was excited.

Exchanging glances with her friends, she saw that they had pretty much the same expressions on their faces as what she was thinking.

_Don't worry, Sandry,_ came the soft voice of Daja inside her head. _Let's just focus on having fun while we're there._

Sandry nodded. _I know. I'm trying; but a part of me just wants to run back._

_Run back? Why?_ Briar questioned her. _This is going to be such a huge adventure; it's even more exciting than when Tris was beating up those pirates._

Tris rolled her eyes. _Of course, my name is first on your list of unforgettable events._

_Yeah, but this will undoubtedly be even cooler._

The four of them exchanged smiles. Their smiles were filled with hope, nervousness, worry, but the most obvious feeling was excitement. Briar's brief speech had them all riled up for what was coming next.

Turning forward once more, they rode into the sunrise... It was the start of their journey into another world. The start of their adventure.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**: Once again I do not own anything written by J. K. Rowling or Tamara Pierce. Hope you enjoy!!

Chapter 3 – Travelling by Portkey

Tris sighed with relief as at long last she was able to climb out of the wagon. It had been such a long ride to the shore; her legs were numb from sitting in such an uncomfortable position. The road had been very bumpy, they were all sick of being jostled about.

Stretching her aching joints, she watched as the driver helped Briar lift all the bags from inside the wagon down to the ground. Briar jumped out of the wagon last, sheltering his _shakkan_ in his arms. He thanked the driver and tossed him a silver coin, and then the driver clucked to his horse and drove away.

"So," Sandry said curiously, "where do we go from here?" Her light blue eyes gazed curiously around at the sandy beach.

"To the seashore, I guess," Daja suggested. She lifted up her bags in her arms and started walking down closer to the water.

Sandry glanced at Tris. _What do you think?_ Tris shrugged in response, and the two of them also picked up their bags and followed after Daja, Briar trailing behind with his _shakkan_.

At the shore, they saw someone standing out, looking towards the water. The sun's rays in front of the person made their image merely a silhouette, which made it difficult to tell who they were.

Cautious as always, Briar reached into the top of his boot and pulled out a small knife, ready to throw it at the person if need be. Daja, up in front, settled her bags into a more comfortable position so that the staff at her waist was easier to reach. As the person turned around, they tensed up, but they soon saw he was nothing to be afraid of.

He was an elderly man, yet he had an air of power and respect around him. His long, white beard came all the way down to his waist, and he wore a long robe of the sort that mages often pulled on over top of their other clothes.

"Welcome, friends," he said with a kind smile. "I trust your journey was well?"

"Who are you?" Daja said abruptly, ignoring his question.

The man chuckled. "Forgive me; I forgot that you would not know who I was. My name is Albus Dumbledore, and I am Headmaster at Hogwarts School."

Almost immediately a startled laugh erupted from behind them. At Sandry's silent warning, Briar held the laughs back in his throat, but his eyes sparkled with mirth as he tucked the knife back into his boot.

"We do know your name, sir," Tris said softly. "My name is Trisana Chandler, and these are my foster-sisters and my foster-brother. We were coming for a student exchange program in... um... England?"

The man named Dumbledore smiled. "Yes, I know. I am here to move your belongings by magic to England so that you can then use the Portkey." He gestured towards a ring drawn in the sand. "If you can just place your bags there, I will then use a simple transportation spell to take them directly to your rooms at the Three Broomsticks."

They began moving their bags inside the circle, and Sandry asked, "Sir, what's the Three Broomsticks?"

"It's an inn, I guess you could say. Basically, it is a place where you can rent overnight rooms and order food from the bar."

Sandry nodded. "Thank you, sir; and thank you also for inviting us on this program in the first place."

"No problem, my dear. But please, all of you, just call me Dumbledore. Now, are all your belongings in there?"

Briar shook his head. "Nope. I'll take my _shakkan_ with me, if that's all right. I don't trust your strange magic doing stuff to my tree."

Dumbledore frowned. "A tree? That complicates things..." He looked kindly towards Briar. "I'm sorry, but the Portkey will only be able to take the four of you, and myself, to the inn. Either I can transport it with my magic, or you'll just have to leave it behind."

"Oh..." Briar grimaced. "All right, you can work your magic on it. But if any branches are broken off, I'm holdin' you to blame. Got that?"

"Briar!" Sandry mouthed, shocked at his rough tone, but Dumbledore just smiled.

"Sounds good to me. Place it down in the very center, where it will be least disturbed."

Briar very gently rested the pot on the white sand, and then he stepped back, watching Dumbledore anxiously.

"All right now, students, this will be your first experience with the sort of magic we use in our world." Dumbledore reached into the folds of his robe and pulled out a thin, wooden stick.

"Watch carefully now." He pointed the stick at the pile of luggage, and as the four sibling crowded in around him, he waved it in a fluid motion around the pile.

A glowing circle of light appeared in the exact place where the line in the sand had been drawn. Daja bent down on her knees and watched it curiously.

"It's like a mage's light," she said in wonder.

Dumbledore smiled. "Close, but not quite. This is what magic looks like in our world." Once again he waved the stick, and now the bags were surrounded in a dome of light.

One last time he waved it, however this time he whispered a long series of words too faint to understand them. With a brighter flash of light, the bags disappeared.

Briar let out a yelp. "Where'd they go?!" Panicked, he squinted up at the sky, as if somehow he could see the place in the other world where they had gone.

"Don't worry, they are quite all right," Dumbledore said absentmindedly as he tucked the wand back into his robe. "Now, the Portkey is set to go off within a few minutes, so come along!"

Dumbledore led them a bit farther down the beach to a rounded bay. Glancing around at the gravelled cove, Tris recognized it; this was the place where, foolishly, she had attempted halting the tide by pouring its power into several large boulders. Unfortunately, the rocks were not strong enough to hold the power she had forced inside, and the result had caused them to explode into gravel and had left her with several weeks of recovery in bed.

Tris blushed at the memory; she had been so stupid in thinking that she could stop the forces of nature. She knew her siblings were remembering it as well.

"Come along, come along," Dumbledore called out, leading them into a circle around a small log that had been bleached from the sun. He had them place their index finger on the wood and them glanced up at the sky, timing something.

A few moments later, he said, "It's almost time. I should warn you, the sensation of travelling through different worlds is not a particularly pleasant one, so... well... consider yourself warned." He smiled comfortingly at them as they looked up with nervousness showing clearly on their faces.

At once Tris felt the strangest feeling; it was as if her finger was suddenly glued to the log. As she realized this she also felt as if there was a hook in her back, pulling her body our parallel to the ground, and then all of a sudden she was flying.

They whirled around in a tight circle, moving higher and higher off the ground, and Tris could see below the entire temple, and then the entire country...

...and then they moved up higher still, into the blackness of space.

Tris felt abruptly overwhelmed at the huge expanse of darkness. She tried to close her eyes, tried to block it out with the familiar darkness of her eyelids, but couldn't even do that; the wind whipping through their circle made it impossible to control their movement.

Now getting worried, Tris stared around frantically, but couldn't see anything past the blackness. This was a place her consciousness had never been; it was blacker than the underground places she had explored with her magic.

Looking up once more, she met Briar's eyes from across the circle. He grimaced at her in a doesn't-this-suck way, and she just watched his friendly green eyes, willing herself not to black out, not to give in to the darkness swirling around her...

...beside her she could hear Sandry whimpering; she felt so sorry for her, for her sister with her fear of the dark; and so she reached out with her mind and just held on to her, not even attempting to speak, just trying to comfort her with her presence.

Then they were leaving the dark night, and moving through layers of clouds into bright day. She immediately felt better, much better, to be in the sunlight with the wind in her hair, and she could feel Sandry beside her relax upon feeling the calmness that now pulsed through her.

Below them were grassy fields, and open expanses of water, and it was all so familiar yet at the same time completely different. They swirled closer, towards a little spot of grey, and as they moved in she saw that there were multiple buildings and houses below them.

They moved in, between the houses, and now she could see people moving through the city; through they didn't seem able to see her.

Then somehow they were inside a building, and then inside a room, and then the weird sensation of being pulled upwards vanished from her.

The four of them hit the floor with loud thumps; Tris could hear Briar cursing as he pulled himself off of where he had landed, halfway on a raised step in front of the door. She barely heard, through, because she had eyes only for the room that they now were in.

The room was quite large. A polished desk stood against the far wall, with shelves filled with books positioned behind it. There was a bit stone fireplace against the opposite wall. Oversized, glass-paned windows lined the far wall.

Standing up painfully, she walked over to the windows and looked out. Below she could see a crowded street. The sun was just beginning to set; it was the hour of twilight in the city.

"It's an amazing view, isn't it?" Dumbledore's voice came from behind her. She turned slightly and saw him watching her from behind his half-moon glasses. He smiled and then walked over to behind the large desk.

"Now, let's see... ah yes. Your rooms are beside each other, on the second floor; that's the floor below this one. There's one large room for the girls, and a smaller one for you, Briar. Your bags should already be there," he said, reading off a piece of paper.

"Should?" Briar asked in his dangerous tone.

"Yes; should. If not than they will be somewhere in between here and there." Dumbledore waved his hand out to the window, gesturing towards the sky.

Briar glared at him. For Dumbledore's sake, Tris hoped their bags had all arrived safely.

"Your rooms are 24 and 25," Dumbledore told them. "Here are the keys." The girl's key was large and silver; he gave it to Sandry. The smaller, copper key he tossed towards Briar.

Briar caught it easily and immediately raced out the door. The girls followed behind him at a slower pace, straightening their clothes from the journey.

They walked down a large staircase and stopped in front of a wooden door. The silver plaque on the door had engraved on it _Room 24_. Sandry slid the key into the lock. It clicked, and they walked in.

The room was light and open. Two bunk beds stood opposite each other, large curtains hanging from their posts. Another glass window was positioned between them.

There was a closet against one wall and a door leading to the bathroom against the other, but what caught their eye was the pile of luggage sitting on the beds.

Somehow, the individual bags had landed on different beds - Sandry's were on one, Tris' on the one above it, and Daja's were on the final bed. On the extra top bunk was a small, neat pile of washcloths laid out be the maids.

Through the wall they could hear Briar's cry of disbelief as he found his _shakkan_ in perfect condition. They also could hear him rearranging the room according to what he liked. The sounds of something large and heavy sliding across the floor came from his room and the sisters glanced at each other, with the words _What is he doing now?_ in their minds.

Shaking her head, Sandry started pulling things out of her bag. She took a metal clothes-hanger from the closet and hung up one of her dresses to wear the next day. Tris decided not to – she would just wear the same dress she had on now – and Daja didn't need to, since she always wore tunics and breeches.

"I'm getting hungry," Daja commented as she went through her mage's kit. "I wonder where we go to eat."

Sandry thought a moment. "I'd guess that there's a dining area downstairs. Let's go check it out."

Daja and Sandry left the room, leaving Tris to lock the door behind them. As she was leaving she ran into Briar who had just come out of his room.

"Hey, Coppercurls," Briar said with a grin. "Did you see the size of those rooms? I bet that they were paid for by a couple of rich Bags."

"I know," Tris admitted. "They're kind of uncomfortable, to be honest. I mean, they're not as bad as some noble's houses, but still."

Briar nodded. "I get your point."

Downstairs, they immediately saw a large eating area with clusters of table. Quite a few people already sat at them, and Tris immediately noticed that the four of them stood out from the crowd. She and Sandry were the only ones in dresses, and while Briar and Daja's tunics and breeches were similar in design to some of the clothes worn here, they seemed quite out of style.

Briar whistled softly. "They do everything different here, don't they?" He grinned at her. "Let's show them what sort of people we are."

Tris smiled back slightly; the stares pointed at them were making her uneasy.

They sat down at a table with Sandry and Daja, and almost immediately a waiter came over. "What can I get for you?" he asked smoothly.

Sandry gave him a polite smile. "We're new to this place. What sorts of food do you serve?"

"Well, personally I would recommend the daily special," he told her. "It comes with buns, meat, a salad and your choice of drink."

Sandry glanced around the table. "How does that sound to you?"

Briar nodded. "Sounds good."

"Same here," Daja added.

"Four Daily Specials, then," Sandry told the waiter.

"All righty, then, and what would you like to drink? The wine is excellent."

"Ummm..." Sandry hesitated.

_Don't get wine, Sandry, our magic will react weirdly like that one time at home,_ Tris reminded her inside their magical connection.

_I know, but what should I say?_ Sandry looked towards Briar pleadingly.

_Let me handle it._ Briar glanced up at the waiter. "Do you have somethin' that doesn't make people drunk?"

"Huh?" The waiter looked confused.

Daja groaned. "What he means to say," she said, cutting him off, "is, do you have any non-alcoholic beverages?"

"Oh, yeah, of course we do." The waiter looked at his notepad. "Since you're new here, I'd suggest Butterbeer. It's a homemade delicacy, very popular among the locals." Seeing their looks he quickly added, "It's not actually beer."

"In that case, we'll try it," Sandry said.

The waiter nodded and walked off towards a counter against the far wall.

AS soon as he was out of hearing, Sandry leaned towards Briar and hissed, "Could you try to be a bit less patronizing and make a bit more sense?"

"I was explaining it to him," Briar protested.

"Yeah, _attempting_ to explain is more like it. If you continue to be uncivilized in public, I swear I will ignore you eternally." She turned her head away with a sniff.

"I feel ignored," Briar said in a sorrowful turn. "In fact, I know that I am so ignored it won't matter if I say, How was I acting uncivilized?"

Sandry glared at him but refused to speak.

Tris rolled her eyes. _At least pretend you're getting along; people are looking at us funny._

_They already were,_ Daja pointed out. _But I see what you're getting at._

After a while their food arrived. It was a very delicious meal, although the food tasted different compared to at home in Emelan.

Tris felt a bit homesick but not too much. She wondered what was happening at home, what Lark and Rosethorn and Nico and Frostpine would be doing without their students.

_I hope people treat us nicely at this Hogwarts school, s_he thought.

_I'm sure they will,_ Sandry said softly. _And if they don't like us, I don't care. They'll just have to live with us._

_We'll always stick out, but at the same time we'll always stick together, no matter what. Even when we're separated, we're still a part of each other._


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **So sorry for the long wait for this one, it took me forever to write, but it was worth it... over 5,000 words in this chapter! Thanks so much for the reviews, they're very much appreciated, and thanks also for the patience you gave me. This chapter is my favourite so far, hope you like it!

Chapter 4 – Like Plants in Sunlight

_Slam._

Briar shut the lid on his new trunk and locked it, hearing the satisfying_ click_ as the bolt slid across. Of course, his primary defence of his belongings wasn't in the lock itself but in the magic he had placed inside it. Only he knew how to open it; even a skilled lock picker wouldn't be able to use a standard magic-cancelling spell to counter it.

As he sat back on his heels he remembered the events of the past day. Two days ago, they had arrived in this strange new world, and yesterday had been their first real taste of it.

* * *

He had woken up to find a large wooden trunk and a small bag of money sitting just inside his door. His surprise had been temporary; as he considered the fact that, somehow, someone had entered his room while he slept, he had put a strong magical working on the door to warn him when someone entered.

The girls had also discovered trunks and money in their room. There were notes inside the bags from Dumbledore.

_Dear Students,_

_This money is from a student exchange fund. Use it to purchase the equipment you will need while at the school. Enclosed is a list of mandatory items. Tom the barman will assist you in entering Diagon Alley. __Take care when you are walking around, not everyone you see is a friend._

_Professor Dumbledore_

Briar had laughed when he read it; of course he knew to stay safe. Ten years growing up in the streets of Hajar had taught him how to look after himself. And four years with the girls had taught him to look after others as well.

After the morning meal they had spoken with the bartender. He had led them to a stone wall, and by tapping it with his wand had somehow turned it into an archway that led into a long street.

The street looked like one of the largest marketplaces Briar and the girls had ever been to. Crowds of people were everywhere, and there were so many stores it was impossible to know where to start. Eyeing the amount of people around them, Briar had thought that if he was still in his thief days this would be the perfect place to nick things without it being noticed.

Their time in Diagon Alley had been interesting, to say the least. Almost as soon as they had walked in Tris had spotted a huge bookstore. She had gone in "just to look", but by the end of the day had taken it on herself to purchase all of their spellbooks, not to mention a variety of other magic-related books she was interested in.

Sandry had gone into a store where mage's robes were sold. She had spent a fair amount of time in there, talking with the seamstress and examining the different types of fabrics they worked with. Even though they had been told that they would be able to wear their own clothing at Hogwarts she had decided to buy a couple robes anyway.

Once they had left Tris and Sandry, he and Daja had continued to walk around. After a while she had said that she could feel a different type of metal nearby and had traced it into a small store. It was called an Apothecary, and they sold a variety of things needed for making Potions. There were ingredients as well as cauldrons, scales and other instruments. Daja had inspected the cauldrons, saying that she could sense magic in them but it felt different than it normally did. He of course had had no idea what she was talking about, since his powers had no connection with metal.

After a while of waiting for her, Briar had gotten bored and walked back into the Alley. Once there he had just wandered around, looking into store windows. At one store, he had stopped and opened the door, a strange compulsion drawing him inside.

It was a small, dusty store, tucked into an out-of-the-way corner. Long rows of shelves lined the back of the store, with many tiny boxes stacked up on top of each shelf. Briar could feel something in the boxes; some strange type of magic that seemed to be calling to him... maybe this was what Daja had felt before? It certainly felt like a strange variety of earth magic.

"Hello, sir, and what can I do for you today?" a faint, whispery sort of voice said. Turning, Briar saw a short, elderly man sitting at a dusty desk. The man looked up at him curiously.

"I am most sorry, but I don't recognize you. Would you be so kind as to tell me your name?" the man inquired.

Briar, a bit confused, said, "Um... sure. My name is Briar, Briar Moss."

"Hmm... Briar Moss. Not a name I know, not even a last name I remember," the man said thoughtfully. "Although, a new name, a new customer... a new history to add to my ancient memory..." He stared thoughtfully at Briar.

_What sort of bleater is this?_ Briar wondered. _The way he talks makes him sound like some kind of daftie, but he's dressed almost like a Bag._

The man smiled and rose to his feet; standing, he only came up to Briar's shoulder. "I am sorry. I have not introduced myself. My name is Ollivander, and I am a maker of wands."

"Wands... those are the magic sticks, right?" Briar checked.

"Yes. Now, are you in here to buy a wand? I will need to take your measurements."

Briar shook his head. "No, I was just walking past when I felt something... it felt like a really weird type of magic." Seeing the look on Ollivander's face, he added, "I'm an exchange student, I have a really different type of magic than you people. Mine works with plants and earth stuff. I can sort of sense when it's near... or when it feels different."

"Curious," Ollivander said. "Would you perhaps like to look at a wand closer?"

Briar was a bit startled at this offer but accepted immediately. He had barely finished his sentence when the frail old man walked over to one of the rows of shelves. Peering at it, he pulled out a single box and brought it back.

"Now, Mr. Moss, I had best give you some history on these wands. They are made of special wood from select trees, and are hollow in the center. Later on the core is filled in with a magical ingredient from one of our most powerful creatures; usually either the dragon, phoenix, or unicorn," said Ollivander as he walked back towards Briar. Very gently, he lifted up the lid of the box, and pulled out a thin dark brown wand. He laid it on his desk and gestured for Briar to sit down.

"Inspect it as you wish," he said with a faint smile. "The only thing I ask is to not tamper with it too much; it could prove disastrous for the witch or wizard who ends up wielding it."

Briar nodded his thanks and sat down gingerly on the spindly chair. Leaning his arms on the desk, he stared at the wand. He could feel strong powers contained inside it. Gently he pushed his powers out and probed into the wand.

He could feel a huge amount of plant magic inside it, probably as much magic as there was in his _shakkan_. The wood this wand was made of, quite obviously, was magical. It surrounded something, though...

As he probed deeper into it Briar could feel something, almost as if there was something living inside of it; its magic felt very much alive. It wasn't the ordinary blaze of bright green he usually could feel, but darker, more red than green.

It was a feather.

Amazed he touched it with his magic. It was a large, twisted red feather, burning with a fierce magic inside. Briar recognized it, though he had never seen one – it was a phoenix feather.

_This wand, it's like it's a tunnel or something, it has lots of magic of its own but it's all for the person who owns it,_ Briar thought as he probed it with his mind. _It's like, the person can't use their magic without it, they need to pass it through the wand first._

Satisfied at this conclusion, Briar removed himself from the wand and sat up. He placed the wand back into its box, still feeling the pulse of magic inside it, and stood up. Almost immediately the old man was at his side.

"Are you content with that, Mr. Moss, or would you perhaps like to see another wand?" Ollivander asked him.

"No thanks, I think I understand the magic better now-"

_BRIAR! BRIAR-BRIAR-BRIAR---_

Briar gasped and fell down. The girl's voices in his head were so loud; it startled him after being in this dusty, quiet shop.

"Mr. Moss, are you all right?"

Briar ignored him for the moment. _What? What are you calling me--_

Daja touched him with her mind, and instead of using words she showed him what she was seeing. Now he stood in a dark street; two large people were walking at him from the front and two more from the side. She turned her head, and he saw down a long, narrow alley the bright lights of the bookstore Tris had been at earlier.

He understood their situation immediately. _I'll be right there._

_Hurry!!_ Sandry's voice was frightened in his mind.

"I gotta go!" he shouted to Ollivander as he leapt to his feet. He hit the door at a run and skidded out onto the street. Following his connection to the girls in his mind, he raced through the crowded streets.

_We took a wrong turn,_ Tris explained to him. _Now we're in this creepy alley. This is more your thing than ours... there's not even any wind down here I could stir up. If I have to, I'll get some of my lightning, but these men have wands and they cast all these shields around them that repel our magic._

_No need to explain. I'm onto it._ Briar raced down the street. As he ran, he reached up his sleeves and loosened the straps on his knives. He had two hanging at each elbow, as well as two at his wrists, in his pants and in the soles of his shoes. He hoped that it would be enough.

Dimly as he ran, he could hear in his head the solid _thunk_ of Daja's staff as she swung it through the air and it met its target. He smiled grimly, knowing from experience how hard she could hit when under pressure to do so.

At last he could see ahead the lights of the bookstore. Turning, he raced down a narrow alleyway. Partway down it was a sign that read "Knockturn Alley" with a skeletal hand carved into it, pointing the way. Briar went that direction.

Ahead he could see a group of people. Coming closer, he recognized Tris and Sandry standing against the wall. Tris' hair was throwing off sparks; miniature lightning bolts had grown in it in her frustration. Four other people were there as well, three of them protected behind a magical shield while the other duelled with Daja. She had knocked his wand out of his hand and now was effectively beating him up with her heavy Trader staff.

Briar walked slowly forwards and manipulated himself into a position where he could reach the people behind the shield. Once he was ready, he pulled two of his knives out and leaped out onto the back of the tallest man.

"Back off my mates, you dung-grubbers," he yelled, clinging to the man's back. Pulled off-balance, the man staggered and fell down. Once on the ground, Briar easily overpowered the wandless man and knocked him unconscious with a blow to the head.

_What do you think, Daj'? Kill 'em or leave 'em?_

_Don't kill them, Briar; just leave them in no position to follow us._ Briar could almost sense Daja rolling her eyes during that comment.

Grinning savagely, he stood up and advanced on the next man. He was probably about the same age as Briar and the girls. Startled, he began chanting something. Tendrils of light floated from the tip of his wand as he waved it towards Briar. He was so focussed on Briar that he never saw Daja come up from behind him until she hit him in the back of his knees. He fell to the ground immediately.

_Nice work,_ Briar said appreciatively as the shield vanished. Daja grinned and bonked the man on the head to knock him out.

_What about the last one?_ she asked him.

_Let me handle it._ Briar stepped closer to the remaining boy. "Hey, kid," he said, easily switching into his native street slang, "tell your mates to back off us, or next time, we'll go for the kill." The boy stared at him, so Briar held out one of the knives helpfully and made a slashing motion across his throat. Turning, the boy ran back down the street.

"Well, are we all good? 'Cause if so, I'd say we had best move out of here," Briar said, turning back to the girls.

"Yeah, let's go," Sandry said. Gingerly she took Tris by the arm and led her back down the alley. Tris was still so mad that sparks ran through her braided hair.

Daja glanced scornfully back towards Knockturn Alley. "Idiot _kaqs_," she muttered, before following the other girls.

Briar shrugged. "Yeah, well, you know how it goes in the streets. Some people are okay, but most ain't that nice."

Tris glared at him. "Easy for you to say," she said, voice trembling. "You weren't standing there, helpless against their pathetic little shields. You at least did something."

"What do you mean, Coppercurls? You did plenty. If it weren't for you scarin' the daylights out of them with your fireworks display, we coulda been toast," Briar pointed out.

Tris sighed. "Please talk civilized, Briar," she said, but she had visibly calmed down, and within moments the sparks had sunk back into her hair.

* * *

Briar sighed. Yesterday had been crazy. After returning to the inn, they had gone to their rooms and stayed there. They had had enough excitement for one day.

But now... he was really looking forward to today. Today was the day they were to start travelling to their new school, Hogwarts, which was why he had packed his trunk. Dumbledore had even managed to find a wire basket that he could put his _shakkan_ in to store it.

There was a knock on the door and so he opened it. Sandry stood there.

"Hey, Briar," she smiled. "Are you ready to go?"

He grinned at her. "Sure am." Grabbing the handle of his trunk, he scooped his _shakkan_ into one arm and followed her out the door. He paused briefly, looking back into the room, and sighed. It had taken him a while to arrange it to his liking; he would miss it.

_After moving the bed into the right position, and pulling the mattress off onto the floor, you'd think we could stay at least one more day,_ he commented to Sandry as they walked downstairs.

Sandry sighed._ Why do you even bother moving it in the first place? That's what I'd like to know._

Once downstairs, they met up with Tris and Daja, who stood next to a woman. She had bright pink, spiked hair and wore a black jacket and skinny pants of the material called denim.

"Hello, there," she said in a friendly voice, holding out her hand. "You must be Briar Moss. My name's Nymphadora Tonks, you can just call me Tonks. I'll be escorting you lot to the train station."

Briar shook the woman's hand. "Um... hi," he said to her.

"So, let's get your bags and trunks out to the bus," Tonks said. She picked up two of the trunks and led them out the door.

They hadn't been out the front door of the inn yet. The first thing they noticed was that everyone outside was dressed pretty much the same. The second thing they saw was that no one here wore mages' robes or carried wands.

Briar looked towards where Tonks was walking and his mouth fell open in surprise. A huge... thing... of some sort was sitting there. It had wheels, like a wagon, but it was made out of a shiny metal, and it was much bigger.

A red-faced youth stepped out of the door. "Hello an' welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transportation for the stranded witch or wizard. My name's Stan Shunpike an' I'll be your assistant for today," he said monotonously, reading the words off a little scrap of parchment. As soon as he had finished he folded the paper and put it into his pocket before turning to them and saying, "So, get in, get in, no time to waste."

Tonks nodded and carried their trunks inside. Stan held the door for them as the four followed behind.

Inside there was a huge amount of space. Rows of chairs sat against the walls around little tables. The four siblings sat down at one table and Tonks piled their trunks beside them. She put Briar's trunk on the pile too, but Briar refused to give up his precious _shakkan_. Once she was done, she sat down next to them.

Stan Shunpike stood beside their table. Cranking a little box tied to his belt, he produced four tickets and handed them to each of the four.

"So," he said, "where are you folks headed?"

Tonks put in before they could answer, "We're going up to London Station to get these four onto the Hogwarts Express."

"All right, then, London Station it is. Take 'er away, Ernie," Stan called to a short man sitting up in front. Jerking awake, the man grabbed a lever and yanked it down. With a rattling nose the entire bus jolted forwards, and then they were moving.

Briar had never travelled by bus, and he didn't think he ever wanted to again. The entire ride was filled with a combination of fast speeds that made his head ache and sudden stops that caused them to fall off their chairs.

"How can you stand it?" he gasped to Stan after a particularly abrupt stop which had caused him to go flying into the window in front of him.

"Stand what?" Stan asked, confused.

"Just... the bus... all of it!" Briar gestured over towards the middle of the bus where the chairs were falling down. He started to say more, but the bus suddenly started moving again and he was thrown back into his chair.

"Ah, well, you do get used to it," Stan said casually, leaning against the wall and opening up a newspaper. Briar stared at the newspaper. Bold headlines proclaimed _Dumbledore Claims Return of the Dark Lord. Is He Telling the Truth?_

"What's that?" he asked, pointing towards the newspaper. Tonks, hearing his question, glanced up and saw where he was pointing.

"Well, now, Briar, that's news about what happened last year. A really Dark wizard, he came back to life, sort of. I don't fully understand it, if you want to know more you'll have to ask Professor Dumbledore." Tonks didn't seem to be comfortable talking about it; she shifted nervously in her chair.

Briar looked at the paper, thoughtful. It took him a moment to realize that the pictures in the newspaper were moving. After noticing that, he couldn't keep his eyes off of them.

The remainder of the ride was just as unpleasant as the first part. Tonks was frequently apologizing for bringing them on the Knight Bus in the first place.

"I told Dumbledore this would happen, but did he listen to me?" she grumbled while helping Sandry up after a particularly hard stop. "I told him, apparition is best, not to mention a lot faster and more comfortable, but did he listen? Instead he started going on about how he couldn't spare any more Aurors to do Side-Along Apparition, but I know Mad-Eye and Kingsley would've been happy to come help out, it wouldn't take that long..." She continued alternating apologizing with ranting for the rest of the bus ride.

It took another hour, but at long last they arrived at the train station. Pulling up to the door, the driver stomped on a pedal and brought them to a screeching halt.

"Here we are, London Station," Stan said unnecessarily as they stood up.

"Get me off this thing," Daja muttered as she walked quickly towards the door. A pale-faced Sandry followed behind her.

Tris, on the other hand, was in no hurry to leave and was content to wait until the crowd of people standing anxiously in line to get out the door had left before walking out herself. Briar stayed with her, although only for the reason that he wanted to keep his _shakkan_ from getting squashed in the crowd.

"Are you coming, Tonks?" he called back to where Tonks stood.

She held up a finger and closed her eyes. For a moment, nothing happened, but then she began to change. Her hair grew longer and darkened until it was a reddish-brown; her nose grew longer and more pointed; and she seemed to grow taller. Lastly, her clothes shifted into a long-sleeved blouse and skirt.

"All right, now that we're ready let's get into the station," Tonks said to them. She started to leave but Briar stopped her.

"What did you do? You changed somehow."

Tonks grinned at him. "I'm a Metamorphmagus. I can change my appearance at will."

"Cool," Briar said, "but why are you changing now?"

Tonks sighed. "I'm supposed to bring you safely here. If Ministry spies find out that I was helping you they could fire me from my job, which I don't want, so I'm changing myself to make it appear that I already left at a previous stop."

"What do you mean, Ministry spies?"

"Yeah, the Ministry of Magic is the leader of the magical world. Dumbledore is suspicious that they might be infiltrated with Dark allies, not to mention the Ministry is suspicious of Dumbledore in the first place. It's a long story."

Grabbing their trunks, they walked into the station. Tonks led the way, Sandry chatting with her, and the other three followed behind them.

The station was packed full of people. Most of them seemed to be normal people, without wands or robes, but a couple looked different in comparison. Briar guessed that those people were mages.

_What do they call mages here again?_ he asked Tris silently.

_Why ask me?_ she grumbled.

_You're the smart one,_ he pointed out.

She sighed. _Witches and wizards,_ she told him. _Witches are female and wizards are male._

_Thanks, Tris._

"C'mon, you three will get lost if you don't keep up!" Tonks called to them from where she waited up ahead. The siblings ran to catch up with her.

"All right, now, this is where I'll be leaving you," she told them. Setting the trunks on the ground, she reached into one of her pockets and pulled out a small bundle of parchment. "Here are your train tickets, don't go losing them. Now, all you have to do is go to platform 9 ¾ and board the train. You're getting a private compartment near the back; it's got curtains on the windows for privacy. You think you'll be all right?"

Briar reached for the tickets, but Sandry took them before he could. He made a face at her before turning to Tonks. "Yeah, we'll be fine. We're used to looking after ourselves."

"Okay, then, I'll see you around." Smiling at them, she turned and walked back down the hall.

"Why'd you take the tickets?" Briar asked his foster-sister.

"Because I'm the responsible one here," Sandry said with a smile. Looking at the tickets, she cried, "Oh no, it's almost time! We have to hurry or we'll be late!"

They grabbed their trunks and began running down the hall.

Partway down they started to see numbered signs. "Okay, there's number 9, and then there's number 10," Daja said, looking around. "Hey, where's 9 ¾?"

"Don't know." Briar studied the signs and then shrugged. "I don't see it anywhere."

"Mila, we'll miss the train! And on our first day too," Sandry said, panicking.

"Um, excuse me, lady?" said a voice from behind her. Sandry gasped and spun around.

A tall, handsome, redheaded boy stood there. "I heard that you're looking for Platform 9 ¾."

"Yes, we are," she told him. "We need to go to Hogwarts School."

The boy winked. "I can help you there. That's where we're headed, too. Are you new students?"

"Exchange students, actually," Briar put in.

"Well, exchange students, it's nice to meet you. My name's Fred, Fred Weasley." Pointing to the sign that read 'Platform 9' he said, "All you need to do to get on the station is run through the wall."

"Run through the wall? You're joking," Briar said disbelievingly.

"Nope. It's enchanted; you won't hurt yourself if that's what you're worried about." Fred grinned. "You see, if we put an actual door somewhere, the Muggles would find it. But put something right in front of their faces, and hey, you got yourself a hiding spot."

Tris raised an eyebrow. "Muggles?"

The boy Fred didn't seem to hear her question. "George, would you care to do the honours?" he asked.

Another identical redhead seemed to step right out of thin air to stand beside Fred. "Sure thing, brother." Turning to the four, he said, "Watch... and be amazed!" With an elaborate bow, he turned and ran towards the solid brick wall.

To their utter surprise, one second he was there... and the next, he had vanished.

Fred burst into laughter at their astonished faces. "Come on, kids, it's not really that cool," he said, chuckling. "If you think this is magic, just wait 'til you get to the castle. Old Dumbledore has everything there whipped into shape with his magic." He glanced at them. "All right, who's first?"

"I'll go," Tris volunteered. Stepping up to the wall, she studied it for a moment before stepping through. Then she, too, vanished.

_Amazing, _she said through their magical link. _It really is a passageway._

_Is it safe?_ Daja questioned.

_I think so. Come through, and bring our things. The train looks likes it's about to leave._

Briar grinned. "All right, let's go!" he said, and the three of them ran one after the other into the wall.

Fred looked after them. "Hmm... I'm no expert, but that one kid looks like he knows a thing or two about tricks. I'll have to make time to talk to him," he said thoughtfully, already planning how he would phrase his questions.

On the other side of the barrier, Briar and the girls were running to catch the train. The people on this station were all wearing ordinary clothing, and most of them carried wands. The four of them really stood out, wearing their dresses, tunics and breeches.

A man stepped down from one of the train's platforms. "Baggage?" he asked them. At their nods, he took their bags from them and carried them into the train. Once the trunks were inside, they climbed in as well and took their things down the hallway, looking for the compartment Tonks had mentioned.

At last, at the end of the hall, they found it – a compartment of medium size, with a plaque on the door that said _Reserved for Special Guests._ Pulling the door open, they brought their things inside.

Briar pushed his trunk under one of the seats and sat down. Staring out the window, he commented, "Wonder where the school is?"

"I don't know," Tris said, "but I'm curious to find out."

They sat for a moment or two in silence before the train whistle blew. With gentle tugs, the train pulled out of the station and moved steadily down the track.

Briar looked out the window. High in the sky, the sun shone down. He wondered how Rosethorn was handling the garden without him.

_Probably getting some village kids to help with the weeding,_ he thought with a chuckle. _Except knowing her, she won't trust them in her garden._

Briar sighed. He hoped that there'd be plenty of time to relax where they went. Although, knowing most magic teachers, they would probably work them until they were exhausted. If not, he thought he'd just sit outside and relax in the sunlight. He and Rosethorn, they were like plants, with the need to be in the sun...

...just like how Tris liked heights best, and Daja practically lived in the forge, and Sandry, well, she was most comfortable sitting at her loom.

What they were doing, he thought, was like taking plants from their native home and putting them somewhere different that they didn't know. Sometimes the plants survived, sometimes not. They were like an experiment. At home, they were like plants in sunlight; here, in this strange world, they were like plants in shade. They would have to find the sun to stay alive.

_We're sturdy. We're tough. We have more mage experience than most adults. We're going to do fine in this little experiment,_ Briar thought grimly. _And if they don't treat us good, they never really wanted us. And if they don't want us, we'll leave these bleaters and go home._

_After all, there's no point in staying where you can't survive._


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Here's the next instalment! A big thank-you to you guys who voted, it was really helpful. Enjoy!

Chapter 5 – The Sorting

Day after day, I sit up here. Staring into space. Listening in on conversations, looking out the window... this has been my routine, for day after boring day.

It wasn't always like this. Once, a very long time ago, I got to travel around with my closet companion. Not a friend, necessarily; ones like me don't exactly have friends. But he definitely was a companion.

Then of course he had to change me. Before, life was simple; now, it's amazingly complicated. I used to like this sort of life but recently I've become uninterested by it. Well, I guess not recently, more like forty years ago. Which is pretty much the same thing for me.

Every year, I sit up here, making up songs and wondering idly about what will happen the next day; though, of course, I know it will be exactly the same. Then, for one day, one exciting, glorious day, it's my time to shine.

For that whole day, I'm the center of attention. All the new students, they talk about me, and even the older students do too. I'm important, for once.

Strange, but I never used to think like this. In my original master's time, it was all about the _thee_'s and _thy_'s and _thou_'s. Now, it's mainly slang and whatnot. Sort of hard to ignore when you're reading it in everybody's head all day, even if it is just one day.

Sigh. Nothing to do; nothing to do at all...

Suddenly a person comes swirling into the room. I say _swirling_ not because they are flying, but because they are wearing a long, black cape that came down to their heels.

Pointy-toed shoes tapped briskly on the floor as Minerva walked towards my shelf. Gently pulling me off of it, she lowered me over her head for a brief second.

_Good afternoon, Minerva, how are you?_ I projected my voice into her head.

_Good, thank you. I just wanted to remind you before I take you down that there will be four extra students coming..._

_Yes, I know. Albus already told me._

_Good._ With that, she pulled me off her head and tucked me under her arm. Taking up a scroll of parchment from the Headmaster's desk, she walked over to the staircase and headed down.

Have you ever been carried under a person's arm before? I swear, it's so uncomfortable I get tempted to steal someone's wand and enchant legs onto myself. Until I remember I don't have arms, that is. Then I sort of just give up.

Finally, she carried me into the Hall. Setting me up onto the table, she left to go fetch the first-years. Not that she explains that to me, of course – Minerva's a very strict sort of person – but I always know what's going on. Being like me, people don't realize that it's possible for you to eavesdrop.

Watching all the students filing in, I like testing myself to see if I can remember all their names.

There's Miss Chang. I had a hard time deciding whether to put her in Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw. She seems happy where she is, though, so that's good.

Mr Malfoy, quite obviously a Slytherin. I Sorted his father, too; they have the exact same type of mind. And there go the rest of his cronies, following behind. I wouldn't be surprised if the lot of them end up as Death Eaters, the way they act.

Hmm... I wonder who that is? Oh right, the Irish boy, what's-his-name... ah well. I remember, immediately as he put me on, I knew he was a Griffindor. It sounds like he's been having family troubles again. Apparently he stood up to his mom. I always knew he was brave.

Ah, and there goes Mr Potter and his friends. Now, he was a hard one to place. I'll never forget him. Not just because of his scar; mainly because I sat on his head multiple times. Once when he was in the office... once in the Chamber of Secrets... and the Sword was bestowed on him. All in all, an interesting story.

At last Albus has entered the room. When he sits down, the entire Hall just seems to dissolve into silence at his presence.

Now... just a couple seconds more...

At last, the doors to the Hall have opened!

The group of first-years, led by Minerva, walk up the aisle. Even from here, I can start guessing houses for them. That one girl has the look of a Ravenclaw... and that boy has the disdainful look in his eyes all Slytherins acquire.

As is tradition, Minerva greets the first-years, and then without words they all turn to me. Now at last it's my time to speak! I spent all year composing this one, and then due to recent events had to scrap it and start over again. I hope they heed it. I don't give warnings lightly, as they should know by now.

"_In times of old when I was new, and Hogwarts barely started,_

_The founders of out noble school thought never to be parted:_

_United by a common goal, they had the selfsame yearning,_

_To make the world's best magic school and pass along their learning._

'_Together we will build and teach!' the four good friends decided_

_And never did they dream that they might some day be divided,_

_For were there such good friends anywhere as Slytherin and Griffindor?_

_Unless it was the second pair of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?_

_So how could it have gone so wrong? How could such friendships fail?_

_Why, I was there and so can tell the whole sad, sorry tale._

_Said Slytherin, 'We'll teach just those whose ancestry is purest,'_

_Said Ravenclaw, 'We'll teach just those whose intelligence is surest,'_

_Said Griffindor, 'We'll teach all those with brave deed to their name,'_

_Said Hufflepuff, 'I'll teach the lot and treat them just the same.'_

_These differences caused little strife when first they came to light,_

_For each of the founders had a house in which they might_

_Take only those they wanted, so, for instance, Slytherin,_

_Took only pure-blood wizards of great cunning, just like him,_

_And only those of sharpest mind were taught by Ravenclaw,_

_While the bravest and the boldest went to daring Griffindor._

_Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest and taught them all she knew,_

_Thus the houses and their founders retained friendships firm and true._

_So Hogwarts worked in harmony for several happy years,_

_But then discord crept among us, feeding on our faults and fears._

_The houses that, like pillars four, had once held up our school,_

_Now turned upon each other and, divided, sought to rule._

_And for a while it seemed the school must meet an early end,_

_What with duelling and with fighting and the clash of friend on friend._

_And at last there came a morning when old Slytherin departed_

_And thought the fighting then died out he left us quite downhearted._

_And never since the founders four were whittled down to three_

_Have the houses been united as they once were meant to be._

_And now the Sorting Hat is here, and you all know the score:_

_I sort you into houses because that is what I'm for._

_But this year I'll go further, listen closely to my song:_

_Though condemned I am to split you, still, I worry that it's wrong._

_Though I must fulfil my duty and must quarter every year_

_Still I wonder whether Sorting may not bring the end I fear._

_Oh, know the perils; read the signs, the warnings history show,_

_For our Hogwarts is in danger from external dealy foes_

_And we must unite inside her, or we'll crumble from within._

_I have told you, I have warned you..._

_Let the Sorting now begin."_

With a slight bow, I held myself motionless once more. To my slight happiness I saw that many of the students, and even some of the teachers, looked discomforted at my warnings. That was my intent. They don't listen when I tell them nicely, so why not scare them into changing their ways?

Minerva was, naturally, glaring out at the muttering students, and as soon as they noticed her they fell silent. Glancing down at her parchment, she read off the first name:

"Abercrombie, Euan."

A blond boy stumbled up to my chair. He had a look of pure terror on his face. Minerva lifted me up, and placed me gently on his head.

_Hello there, Euan,_ I whispered, breaking into his thoughts.

_What's going on, there are voices in my head!!_

Just as I feared, he was starting to panic.

I sighed. _It's just me, the Sorting Hat._ Sorting through his head I noticed immediately the amount of courage he had. Despite his apparent fear of talking hats, he seemed to have a habit of standing up for others. In fact, just that morning he had stood up to a second-year who had been taunting one of his friends. Inside he had been terrified, no doubt explaining part of his fear now.

_What's happening to me??_ he thought in a panic, running through lists of mentally insane wizards in his head while wondering if he was destined to join them.

_Euan, I'm just Sorting you. You're not crazy. Trust me; I'd know if you were. Do you want to be Sorted into Griffindor? It's all here in your thoughts. _

_I don't care. Put me anywhere. Please, just get out of my head!_

_Blind trust; that's good. 'Daring Griffindor', that's your house all right._ Maybe a bit too large a compliment, but hey, I could feel his surprise and pleasure at me saying it. I love making these first-years happy.

"Griffindor!" I called out loud.

Beaming, partly with happiness and partly with relief, he jumped off the stool and handed me back to Minerva as he ran to join his new House.

Minerva glanced back down at her list. "Brew, Renee!"

A brown-haired girl skipped forward, excitement showing clearly in her hazel eyes. She sat down on the stool and once more I was placed down.

This time, rather than immediately introducing myself, I started searching through her thoughts. She was a very smart girl and was currently thinking about the four Houses and going through everything she knew about the four founders.

_Hello, Renee._

After a brief conversation with her – she was not surprised to have me talking to her, apparently an older sibling had previously told her about me – I concluded that she was a Ravenclaw, through and through. Calling it out, I moved onto the next student.

Going through each and every first-year is a tedious job that altogether goes too fast. It is easily my favourite time of the year, getting to know each of these new students. I was sad when the time came to Sort the last child, a boy named Sebastian Young.

Minerva remained where she was, and then I remembered – today was when the exchange students were coming. I was supposed to Sort them as well.

Turning, she spoke aloud to everyone in the Hall.

"Students, today is a very special day," she said. At once everyone had turned back to the front of the Hall to face her. Obviously they were taken aback to see Minerva still at the front. The older students were giving her surprised looks.

Waiting for their attention, she continued, "Today we will be welcoming four new students to Hogwarts. They are arriving from another country, as exchange students. This event will help us gain a better understanding of other lands and other types of magic.

"While they are here, I expect each and every one of you to treat them with respect. You are the representatives of the school, and of the wizarding community." Looking sternly around, she added, "Any disrespect shown will result in the same punishments as if they were ordinary students."

Gesturing towards myself, she added, "They will be Sorted into one of the four houses, and will take their classes with the fifth-years of that House. However, they will have the freedom to travel about the school as they wish."

Turning, she faced the doors to the Great Hall, just as they swung open.

From my vantage point I could just see four people entering. The other students kept twisting around to watch them, but as they came closer I could see them better.

In front walked a girl and a boy; behind them came two other girls.

The first girl had long brown hair that was twisted up in the back. She wore a long blue dress that fit tight to her body. Her blue eyes sparkled as she smiled slightly; she looked excited and curious to see more of the Hall. She walked casually, comfortable being the centre of attention; it looked as if she was used to people watching her.

The boy beside her had slightly darker skin, olive-toned, I'd say. He had black cropped hair that barely touched his shoulders. His clothes consisted of a long-sleeved white shirt and a pair of dark brown pants. He too had a casual walk, easily returning the curious looks of students and occasionally the admiring glances of nearby girls. His shoulders had a stiff look to them though, as if he were waiting for trouble, and knowing that he would be able to deal with it.

The girl behind him was a redhead. Her hair was braided underneath a black veil. She wore a black dress like the one that the brunette was wearing. Her grey eyes were uncomfortable underneath a pair of wire glasses; she shifted nervously and whispered something to the girl beside her, who smiled and whispered something else in return.

The final girl was a bit different than the other two. She had dark brown skin and black hair. Instead of a dress, she had on an outfit similar to the boy's – a bronze-coloured shirt and black pants. A wooden staff was strapped to her back. All four of them looked to be about the same age, a bit older than fourteen perhaps, although the boy appeared to be a year older.

The four of them walked up to the very front until they stood before Minerva. She talked to them for a couple minutes, and then pulling out another, shorter piece of parchment she read off the first name.

"Chandler, Trisana," she called. The redhead came up the steps and sat down on the stool, and I was placed on her head. It felt a bit different; usually I'm only on the younger kid's heads, not the older ones.

_Hey there. Is it true that you're a talking hat?_

Well, this was strange. Instead of merely thinking to me, she was somehow projecting her thoughts into my head. Normally it's the other way around – I say something to them, and then look in their heads for when they think an answer back.

Slightly confused, I replied, _Yes, in fact, I do talk. I'm here to Sort you._

_I knew it!_ said another voice triumphantly. This one sounded different, softer, maybe a bit quieter.

_Didn't I tell you? I knew there was something different about the fabric._

_Yeah, Duchess, we sort of realized that._ This voice was male and sounded bored, as if he was used to outbursts like this.

_Well, excuse me for living. I sort of just had a revelation here!_ Now the other girl sounded annoyed.

_Hey, you two back off, okay?_ This was a sharper female voice whom I recognized to be Trisana. _This hat guy is trying to Sort me or something. Get out of my head for a bit, will you? _Abruptly, there was silence, as if she had slammed a door between them.

_You have other people in your head?_ I had never heard anything like this before; I had to figure it out.

_Yeah, they're my siblings. We have a magical connection between us, it lets us talk in each other's heads. But I shut them out so you can do that Sorting thing._

_Oh, right._ I got back to work, sorting through her thoughts and memories to find what I was looking for. There were some pretty bad things in here – parents who didn't want her, places she was kicked out of, even a cousin who betrayed her.

But there were other parts too... it was quite clear that she had a good head on her, very intelligent, and she wanted other people to understand her and not pick on her because she was different.

_I have a place for people like you._

_What do you mean, people like me? _This time, she sounded defensive but a bit curious.

_I mean, people who are intelligent but used to be teased about it. There's one place you'll fit into. _With that, I raised my voice and called out, "Ravenclaw!"

Under the sound of clapping hands, I heard curious whispers. The students at the Ravenclaw table were leaning out of their chairs to study this new girl who would be joining them.

Slightly embarrassed, Trisana came off the stool and hurried off to her new House, where she sat down at an empty seat by Miss Chang, who immediately started talking to her. I hoped that she would be happy there.

Minerva held up the list again, and called out, "fa Toren, Sandrilene!" This time, the brunette came forward.

She sat down on the stool, her dress falling neatly around her, and waited eagerly for me to be placed on her head. Almost as soon as I was settled she started talking; she too was able to project her thoughts.

_Hello, Hat, recognize me? _she asked hopefully.

_Yes, actually. You were interrupting my sorting of Trisana._ She had been the second female voice I had heard; the softer one.

_Yeah, um, sorry about that... Can I tell you my revelation? Or will it interrupt the sorting thing you're doing?_

_No, it's fine. I'm curious to know._

_Well,_ she paused slightly, _I was looking at you through my magic, and it occurred to me, you have all sorts of academic magic inside you because of spells and all, but there's ambient magic in your fabric. So, maybe you're actually made of enchanted fabric, which is pretty cool and means that there must be other people in this world with the same types of magic I have! _She sounded happy.

_Interesting. Now, if you don't mind..?_

_Oh, sorry._ Immediately she became quiet.

Her head was very... neat... inside. I guess that's really the only word for it. Everything was categorized, ordered into neat rows of thoughts and memories. There were some startling things in her head, just like in Trisana's – memories of plague and her parent's death, memories of earthquakes and being in the dark. She was obviously very brave and courageous in the face of danger.

_I know where to put you!_ Once again, I opened my mouth, this time to call out, "Griffindor!"

The Griffindor students clapped loudly, watching her interestedly as she made her way to their table. She sat down near a couple of girls and started introducing herself. I knew I made the rigt choice with her.

Once again, Minerva read off a name. "Kisubo, Daja!"

The black girl came up the steps and sat down. As I settled onto her head, I wondered what she would sound like. She was the only one of the four I had not heard yet.

_Hello, Daja._

_Hello._ Her thought-voice was quiet and calm. She seemed to glow inside with serenity and radiate calm. Her thoughts, also, were organized and sorted.

Right away I began Sorting through her head. She had a very different past than the other two – she called herself a Trader, which seemed to me to be like a native or gypsy person. She was filled with different emotions inside, mostly frustration, at the Traders who both were her life and the destroyers of it. This frustration was blocked up, though, somewhere where it didn't affect the calmness she strived to portray.

_I know a place for you. You're different parts of a whole person; there's one house you'll fit in._

_That sounds good to me._

I raised myself and shouted, "Hufflepuff!"

More claps, this time from the yellow table. They at once welcomed her into their group.

The last name was called. "Moss, Briar!"

The final student, the boy, came forward. He refused to sit on the stool but instead took me from Minerva and placed me on his head where he stood.

_Hello, Briar._

_Hello. So, this Sorting, what's it involve?_ he asked curiously.

_Basically, I look through your head and read you thoughts and memories, to see what House you're suited for,_ I explained. I wasn't surprised he had asked. There's one in every group, one person who wants to hear it first-hand rather than from a fellow student or even a teacher.

_Just so long you don't tell anyone what you read, that's fine with me._

_That sounds like a deal._ I began reading through his head.

Another interesting past. He was a street boy, and was taken in by a Thief Lord and taught about thievery. He had been caught and was going to be sent away, but was rescued by a wizard who took him to a magic school instead. He knew all about knife fighting and stealing, and had the mind to play tricks on others, and he was very protective of the three girls, not that they really knew or understood. Not in his mind, at least.

_Another Griffindor, I see. _Opening up again, I called "Griffindor!" once more.

More claps from the table clad in red. I watched the boy sit down next to that Irish boy... I still don't remember his name. I'll have to think about that.

Minerva picked me up, still scowling slightly at the boy's refusal to sit down, and took me back to the Headmaster's office, where I will sit for another year.

At least I have a lot to think about now. These four exchange students will live very interesting lives in Hogwarts, I think. It will liven up the place a bit, having four new kids with no idea of how things usually work around here.

I might need to replace the Potter boy with these new students in my memories list. They could give him a run for his money.

Yes sir, things are going to get a lot more exciting. I'd bet on it. Maybe that's why Albus took them on...

**A/N:** Have you ever tried writing from the perspective of a hat? It's actually pretty hard. Let me know how you think I did! I tried giving him/it [do hats have genders?] a more modern perspective and way of thinking; it seemed to fit the story better.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Thanks so much for all the reviews; that was great!! There were a few interesting questions/points made so I'll answer them here.

Child of Gallifrey: Harry and Cho will both be talked about; I'm planning on sticking mostly to the original HP 5 plotline. Various other students are getting mentioned in this chapter (through different POVs) and will continue to be mentioned during the story. If I'm missing any, let me know.

FaxidentallyInLove: There will be romancey bits here and there. Maybe some Sandry/Briar, though I haven't completely decided yet.

Kaito Aozora: In my mind, Daja could fit into either Griffindor or Hufflepuff. I wanted her to be in Ravenclaw with Tris so that Tris wouldn't be the only one not in Griffindor, but Daja isn't really fit for that House. So I made her a Hufflepuff. She'll be fine there.

Litara: You're totally right, Briar would despise the Slytherins and they'd despise him right back. He'd probably punch Malfoy out and then steal all his money while he's unconscious. Snape's not too pleased about the lack of exchange students in his House, though he hides it well.

Okay, I think that's all. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 6 - Connections

Tris glanced around the hall. It was a bit disappointing that her brother and sisters were being Sorted into different houses, and she found herself unable to stop wishing that at least one of them were with her. Maybe then she wouldn't be feeling so lonely.

"Hello," said a voice next to her, and she turned to see a pretty, black-haired girl smiling at her. "My name is Cho; I'm in your year in Ravenclaw." She offered her hand.

Hesitating a moment, Tris shook it. "My name is Trisana. You can call me Tris."

Cho said, "So, what country did you come from? It must be pretty different from here."

"We're from Emelan."

"I never heard of that country," she said, frowning slightly.

"Well, it's not actually from this world, to be honest," Tris admitted.

Cho's eyes widened. "Really? That's so cool! It must feel weird to be here. Is that why you're wearing a dress?"

"That's what we usually wear, yes," Tris said, slightly offended by the question. "It's not like I'd wear anything else; that would be improper."

"I see." Cho looked towards the front of the room, where Briar was being Sorted, and sighed as the hat called out, 'Griffindor!' "I wish he was in Ravenclaw," she commented.

"Why?" Tris asked her, slightly unwilling to start a conversation with this friendly yet strange girl. She normally never talked with anyone except her siblings; it felt weird.

"He's so hot; didn't you see every girl in the Hall watching him?"

"No, I try not to, or else he starts acting like his brain's affected," she said abruptly.

"Good-looking and knows it, eh?" Cho chuckled.

"I guess," Tris replied.

"Not that I'm falling for him," Cho said quickly, as though worried that Tris would be mad at her, "but still."

Tris ignored her. She didn't care if every girl in the school fell for Briar. Why should she? She was his sister.

She didn't feel like talking anymore. If she had her say, she would have skipped the Sorting and gone into an empty room to read, rather than being made to stand in front of a huge group of curious teenagers.

Looking around, Tris watched her foster-siblings sit down. She wondered what they were thinking about this school. Opening her mind to them, she listened in on their thoughts.

* * *

Daja sat down and was immediately and warmly welcomed by her new classmates. One boy held out his hand towards her.

"I'm Ernie Macmillan," he said in a pompous manner. "Welcome to Hufflepuff!"

"Um, hi," Daja said, shaking his hand. "I'm Daja, Daja Kisubo."

A dark blonde sitting nearby smiled at her. "Hi, my name is Hannah Abbot." Shaking her hand, she suddenly gasped. "What's wrong with your hand?!"

Daja glanced down. Sure enough, Hannah had noticed her bronze-coated hand. She smiled slightly. "I got this while fighting a huge forest fire two years ago. The bronze top on my staff melted and stuck to me."

"But doesn't it hurt?" Hannah asked in awe.

"No; it itches sometimes, but it's almost like skin. We call it living metal, because it's warm and flexible, not to mention that it grows and shapes itself onto any surface."

"Really?" Ernie asked curiously.

Daja grinned. "I know it sounds strange, but it's true. See?" Gently she pulled off a bit that had grown down her arm. Taking it, she wrapped it around her wrist, where it instantly fused with her metal glove. "It sticks to itself really easily," she commented. "You can make arm bands, living metal trees, practically anything. I once made a leg out of it for a woman who had lost hers in an accident." Peeling it off again, she handed it to Hannah.

"It's warm," the girl said in amazement as she felt it. The warm metal pooled in her cupped hands until she picked it up and tried wrapping it around her own wrist. Looking up at Daja, she added, "I bet people would pay a lot of money for something like this."

"Probably," Daja admitted. "But I really don't care about money."

"Tell us about where you came from. What does it look like? What sort of people live there?" Hannah asked as she passed the metal off to a curious blonde girl staring at it from beside her.

As Daja started to tell her about Discipline Cottage and her teacher Frostpine she noticed out of the corner of her eye that Tris was watching her longingly.

_Bored already?_ she asked her teasingly.

_Yes, not to mention I wish I was with you. I wish that I had brought my book with me._

_I can tell._

Suddenly, the other blonde girl cried out, "This feels exactly like what the wings of the Blibbering Humdinger are supposed to be made of!"

"The what?" Daja asked, surprised.

"The Blibbering Humdinger. It's a very rare creature, very shy, they live in hollow trees. My dad and I go exploring for them on the holidays," the girl said. Staring at the metal with large eyes, she started talking about a variety of creatures, all of which Daja had never heard of and had very strange names.

Hannah smiled slightly and turned to whisper, "Don't mind Luna, she thinks that all sort of creatures exist when really there's no proof. Her dad runs a newspaper, it's full of rubbish. I only read it for laughs."

Daja nodded, still watching Luna. When the girl showed no sign of stopping, she sighed and continued her conversation with Hannah and Ernie. At least they made sense when they talked. The girl Luna seemed nice, but it was easy to tell that she was a bit scatterbrained, to say the least. Her wand was tucked behind her ear, she seemed to have earrings made of radishes, and he clothes had a pieced-together look to them.

As she started telling the two about her first adventure with living metal, she couldn't help wonder what Sandry and Briar were doing.

* * *

Sandry sat down and straightened her skirts. She watched as Daja and Briar was sorted, sad that Daja wasn't with Tris and glad that Briar was with her.

_Tris must be bored out of her mind,_ she couldn't help thinking to Briar.

_I know, _he replied, smirking slightly. _Why didn't you let her bring her book?_

_You know very well why,_ she retorted. _If she had a book with her, she would just be ignoring everyone, not to mention that if someone interrupted her she'd probably start sparking._

_Yeah. Gotta love it when the quiet girl starts shooting everything with lightning._

_Hey! I heard that! _Tris cried.

_Were you listening in on us? _Sandry asked her.

_Nothing else to do,_ shereplied. Then, turning to Briar, she added,_ And I so would not attack people just for interrupting me!_

_Oh, suuuuurrre you wouldn't, _was Briar's sarcastic reply.

Disregarding their banter, Sandry looked along their table. Beside her was a girl with think brown hair, and on her other side were a couple other girls. Across from her were two boys. Farther along the table she recognized the twins they had met at the train station; Briar sat down at an empty space near them.

The girl next to her turned and smiled. "Hello, my name is Hermione."

Sandry smiled back. "I'm Sandry."

"So, are you looking forward to going to Hogwarts?"

"A bit... it's all so different, but it's pretty cool," Sandry commented as she watched the plate in front of her automatically fill with food. Across the table from them, the red-headed boy gave a groan of longing and piled his plate before starting to eat.

Hermione shook her head. "Ron, don't eat so fast, you'll choke."

The redhead ignored her and continued shovelling food into his mouth.

Sandry grinned. He reminded her of Briar.

Hermione sighed. "Sandry, this is Ron, and the boy beside him is Harry. We're all in the same year, so you'll be having classes with us."

The black-haired boy sighed. "I really wish you hadn't mentioned classes, Hermione." Looking towards Sandry, he added, "My name's Harry Potter, by the way." As he turned his head, she noticed that he had a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead.

"Nice to meet you," Sandry said politely. "Um, nice to meet you too, Ron."

Ron glanced up from his plate and grunted something; it sounded like "Nis t' eat you," and then he returned to his meal.

"So," Harry said as he placed a large bread roll on his plate, "are the four of you siblings?"

"Not really," Sandry admitted. "Technically we're foster-siblings; we were sort of adopted by our main magic teachers."

"Really? What sort of things do they teach you?" Hermione asked curiously. "At Hogwarts we learn the basics, which are Potions, Charms, and Transfiguration, but we also have extra classes like Magical Creatures, Herbology, Ancient Runes, Divination..." she continued, listing off a large number of names.

"I'm sorry," Sandry said hastily, interrupting her recitation, "but I have no idea what you're talking about."

Hermione stopped. "What do you mean?"

"Well... our magic, it's different than what ordinary mages do, and probably very different than what you can do," Sandry said, trying to explain.

Hermione just stared at her, puzzled.

Sandry sighed. "You should talk to my sister, Tris; she can explain it a lot better. But, basically, our magic doesn't use wands, or potions, or chanting spells. It's more... elemental."

"Huh." Hermione still looked a bit confused, but she let it drop for the time being and instead turned back to her plate.

Sandry started eating. The food looked a bit different, but tasted very good. She was just thinking about taking another piece of meat from the plate in front of her when a pale head rose out of the aforementioned meat platter.

Sandry gasped and jumped back. The pale head turned to look at her.

"Good evening! Welcome to Griffindor!" he said cheerfully.

Sandry just gaped at him.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I've forgotten my manners," said the man. Rising out of the meat, he hovered beside her and bowed. "My name is Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington. I am the Ghost of Griffindor House."

"You're a ghost?!" Sandry cried out in surprise. Remembering her manners, she apologized to the man, who merely laughed.

"No problem, we ghosts tend to startle the newcomers. And you are...?"

"Oh, right. My name is Sandrilene fa Toren. You may call me Sandry," she said, raising her head every so slightly.

_Don't get too noble on them, Duchess,_ chastised Briar.

_Can't you tell? This ghost is a knight of some sort,_ replied Sandry. _He knows what a lady looks like. If I didn't introduce myself the right way, he'd think I was some sort of ordinary person._

_Here, you are,_ reminded Briar. _They don't have no fancy duchesses and princesses here._

_Talk proper for once, Briar._

_No one can hear us,_ retorted the boy.

Sandry turned her attention back to Sir Nicholas. He bowed again, one hand holding onto the top of his head. "Pleased to meet you, Lady Sandry," he said before floating off.

Taking a piece of meat, she wondered why ghosts lived in the castle. She hoped they wouldn't scare her at night. Good thing she had brought her rock with her.

* * *

Briar had sat down at the only empty space left, near the twins they had met earlier. He had alternated between talking with them out loud and talking with Sandry and Tris in his head. Now that he was eating, there was no time to talk. To his surprise, it actually tasted pretty good.

Once he had eaten his fill, Briar sat back in his chair and looked around the room. Sandry, playing the noble and talking with a girl and boy farther down the table. There was Daja, entertaining a group of eager kids with stories of her Trader life. Finally, he saw Tris, glaring into the distance and pointedly ignoring the girl beside her who kept trying to draw her into the conversation.

At the front of the room was one more table, with a group of adults sitting along it. Having never seen so many adults in the school, Briar studied them carefully.

At the far end was a black-haired man who seemed just as distant and arrogant as Tris could be sometimes. Briar wasn't certain, but he seemed to be a bit frustrated about something. Beside him was a short, stout man who didn't interest Briar. Next to him were another man and a woman wearing huge glasses that were balanced precariously on her nose. Then there was the woman who had brought them in, Micgonagal or something like that, and sitting beside her was old Dumby the headmaster.

_Briar!_ came a shocked gasp from inside his head.

Briar groaned mentally. _Tris, it's just a nickname. Calm down._

_But that's so disrespectful!_ was her stunned reply.

_How will he find out?_

He ignored the mental glares being sent in his direction and continued his inspection of the teachers.

Sitting primly beside him was a plump woman who seemed to be viewing the entire Hall with distaste. A bow perched on top of her head. Briar disliked her immediately; he didn't know why, it was just his street rat's sense telling him to watch out for her.

On her side was a woman wearing a tattered green cloak and a large hat decorated with flowers. She had on a pair of fluffy pink earmuffs that it seemed she had forgotten to take off, causing the woman beside her to gesticulate wildly in an attempt to tell her. Her flailing arms knocked a crystal goblet off the table.

These teachers seemed like what he was used to, Briar concluded. The prim woman could be Dedicate Crane; the distracted woman could be Rosethorn, too occupied with her plants to focus on anything else; the stout man could be Gorse; the orderly woman could be Lark, in one of her stricter moods; the friendly man could be Frostpine; and that arrogant man could even be Niko.

_Hmm... you're right,_ Tris said thoughtfully. _It's all about making connections, isn't it? This world isn't too different from our own._

_Exactly, _Briar responded, though of course he hadn't thought of that until now.

He felt her laugh through their connection.

"Um, excuse me, Briar?" said a voice from nearby him.

"What?" he asked, turning to face a brown-haired boy who was staring nervously at his... hands?

"Um, your hand, it's, like, um, well, there's moving plants on it. Where you attacked or something? Because if you need to get rid of it, I bet Madam Pomfrey would be able to help..."

Briar glanced down. "No, that's just my tattoos," he told the boy. "I was in trouble with the law when I was younger, and I got ink X's tattooed onto my hands. When I turned respectable, I wanted to hide them, so I gave myself these flower designs." He grinned at the boy.

The boy grinned back. "That's cool. Never mind then." He continued eating, then quickly swallowed and added, "My name's Neville, by the way."

"I'm Briar, as you already know. Hey, Neville, can you tell me who those teachers are?" As Neville answered, Briar could feel Tris in his head again, listening in.

"Oh, sure," Neville replied. Glancing up, he said, "Well, the first one is Professor Snape. He's creepy, and he favours the Slytherins. Then, let's see, there's Flitwick, Trelawney, McGonagall, Dumbledore, um, a woman I don't know, and Professor Sprout. She must have been working with Mandrakes; she left her earmuffs on. Then on the end is Professor Grubbly-Plank, who's a substitute teacher."

"Interesting names."

"Yeah. Are they really, you know, _weird_ compared to what you're used to?" he asked curiously.

Briar started to say yes, then stopped, remembering Nico. Smiling slightly, he said, "No, just different. One of our teacher's full name is Niklaren Goldeye. That's just as weird as Dumbledore."

Neville looked a bit surprised at Briar's casual reference to the Headmaster but then grinned. "You're right. I guess all our names are kind of weird, when you're comparing them."

"Yeah." Briar's smile widened fractionally as he heard Tris' silent groan in his head.

_His name __is__ weird,_ he pointed out to her with a grin. _You can't argue with logic._

_What do you know about logic? _she retorted as she left his head.

Briar smiled again. Teasing Tris could be really fun sometimes.

* * *

Hermione stared thoughtfully at Sandry. What did she mean, their magic was different?

Hmm. Elemental magic. She might have to do some research on that.

And apparently they didn't need wands either. She knew that some extremely powerful wizards didn't need wands, but four teenagers? Well, their world was different...

"Did you say you had elemental magic?" she asked Sandry abruptly.

Sandry nodded. "Our magic, it's called – ambient magic. Ordinary mages, you know, with wands and all, have academic magic. At least, that's what we call them in our world."

"Interesting." Academic – academics? Maybe ambient magic was instinct, and academic magic was, well, learned and studied. That sort of made sense...

"Out of curiosity, what sort of things can you do?" Hermione asked casually.

Sandry grinned. "I'm what some call a 'stitch witch'. My magic works through thread and fabric."

"So, you can sew?" Ron asked blankly.

"Of course I can sew!" Sandry laughed. "But, with my magic, I can sew enchanted cloth, spin magic like thread, unravel fabric by looking at it, and summon thread... there are all sorts of things I can do. And there's a variety of ways I can use it."

"Enchanted cloth?" Harry asked curiously.

"I can weave cloth that hides the wearer or disguises them. I can weave cloth that heals faster and binds tighter. I can make it protect you from attack, magical or physical," she replied, giving them a few examples.

Hermione looked up, startled. She could make invisibility cloth? Like Harry's invisibility cloak! It couldn't be affected by magic, and it was made of some sort of otherworldly material. Maybe it had been made with this ambient magic Sandry was talking about.

She needed to do more research before coming to any conclusions, though.

* * *

Fred casually stared off into the distance, trying not to look like he was eavesdropping.

"Faker," whispered George as he poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice.

Fred ignored him. That is, he ignored him until he heard Briar mention what he had been waiting to hear.

"Bro, did you hear what he just said?" he asked very softly.

"No, what?"

"He said that he used to be in trouble with the law or something, and that he turned respectable."

George grinned. "But you know what they say..."

"... once a law-breaker, always willing to break the law again..."

"... especially for a good cause," finished George.

"So, should we ask him now?"

"Nah, we'll let him settle in for a couple days first. Then we'll corner him."

Fred grinned, looking exactly like his twin. "Oh, man, I can't believe our luck!"


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** So, um, apparently I forgot that Luna is actually in Ravenclaw, not Hufflepuff. Even the best of us get confused at times ^^ Kudos to Luna25 and And Back Again for catching that. For the sake of simplicity, let's say that Luna mistook Daja's glove for a Blibbering Humdinger and wandered over. Knowing her, that could happen. No offense to Luna fans; it's just her personality.

Hope you like this one... next chapter coming soon!

Chapter 7 - Confusion

After completing her investigation of the living metal, Luna stood up and wandered back over to the Ravenclaw table. She had thought that it was a Blibbering Humdinger, but according to the girl Daja it was just metal.

Luna sighed. For once she thought she might have believable proof. Not that any true believers of extraordinary creatures needed proof, but still.

At the Ravenclaw table, she sat down next to the red-haired girl.

"Hello, Trisana Chandler," she said. She found it easy to remember names. Other people said that her excellent memory was due to "the bizarre names her and her eccentric father came up with as they pretended to believe in imaginary and impossible creatures". Luna ignored those people.

The girl looked towards her. She looked a combination of bored and frustrated and just barely managed to keep a tone of impatience out of her voice as she said, "Um, hi, who are you?"

"My name is Luna Lovegood," Luna responded. "Can I call you Tris?"

"Sure..." Tris looked confused. Turning away, she sighed. "I wish I could, like, leave or something. This is so pointless. I mean, I could be reading right now."

"I know," Luna said seriously. "I was in the middle of reading a fascinating article on ancient runes in _The Quibbler._"

"What's that?" Tris asked her curiously.

"It's a magazine my father prints," Luna explained. Impulsively she pulled a copy out of the inside pocket in her robes. "Do you want to read it?"

Tris started to reach for it, then hesitated and asked "Would I be allowed to?"

She gazed up at the starry ceiling thoughtfully. "None of the teachers will care, especially since you're a new student. It's probably fine."

"Yeah... but I'm more worried about my sisters." Tris flinched, as though someone was yelling at her.

"In that case, you can look at it once we leave." Luna tucked it away. Looking toward the head table, she smiled then and said, "Dumbledore's getting ready to make his speech now."

Dumbledore had stood up at the head table. Almost immediately, conversations in the Hall came to an end as the students turned to face the front.

"Now that we are finished with yet another magnificent feast, I ask for a few minutes of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices," he said with a smile.

"Firstly, I would like to remind you all that the Forest is strictly out-of-bounds, as all First-years ought to know, not to mention several of our older students."

Luna nodded at that. Everyone knew that there were werewolves and centaurs and all sorts of things in the Forest. And thestrals! That reminded her, she needed to go visit them sometime.

"Secondly, our caretaker Mr Filch would like me to remind you for what he claims to be the four hundred and sixty-second time that magic is not allowed in the school corridors, nor are a large number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list fastened to his office door.

"Next, we have had two changes in staffing this year. We are pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be teaching Care of Magical Creatures, and are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Luna frowned. "That's strange. Where's Hagrid?"

"Who's Hagrid?" asked Tris.

"Oh, he's the Magical Creatures teacher and also the keeper of keys and grounds at Hogwarts. But he's not here today. I wonder why?" Luna thought it over.

"Maybe he's sick or something," Tris suggested.

"I doubt it. He's half-giant, he never gets sick. Magic doesn't even affect him."

Tris looked a bit stunned at hearing that. More likely she was surprised at hearing the giant part, Luna thought.

Dumbledore continued, "Tryouts for the house Quidditch teams will take place on-"

He broke off suddenly, looking towards Professor Umbridge. It was not immediately clear to the students that she had stood up, for she was fairly short either way, but when she cleared her throat with a small "_Hem hem_," they realized that she was planning on making a speech.

Looking a bit taken aback, Dumbledore sat back down and watched her. Many of the other teachers looked surprised and a bit startled.

Luna rarely got surprised by anything, but she felt a bit pitiful for Umbridge. Clearly she had no idea how things were done at Hogwarts.

* * *

Tris watched Umbridge as she stood up. Her keen eyes noticed everything from the expression on the other teachers' faces to the scheming look in Umbridge's eyes. It appeared that Briar's street sense was right.

Umbridge smiled widely, showing a mouthful of very white and very pointed teeth. "Thank you, Headmaster, for those very kind words of welcome," she said in a simpering voice. She coughed once more, "_hem hem_," in a way that already was annoying, and then continued on.

"How wonderful to be back at Hogwarts, and to see all your happy little faces! I can't wait to meet you all, and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!" she said in a condescending air.

Cho exchanged a look with the girl opposite her. Tris sighed. It seemed that a long, patronizing speech sounding as if it was being directed towards five-year-olds was imminent. Behind her, Luna was staring off into space once more, humming a strange tune.

Umbridge took a deep breath and continued on. Her words sounded much more speech-like now as she said, "The Ministry for Magic has always considered educating the younger generations of wizards to be extremely important. Without proper instruction, the gifts you were born with will come to nothing. Thus, those who have been called to the noble art of teaching are held in high esteem, for it is they who pass down the treasure trove of magical knowledge." Here she stopped and made a little bow to the teachers beside her.

Professor McGonagall was frowning so hard that her eyebrows looked as though they had merged together, making her appearance quite similar to that of a hawk as she stared at Umbridge, who merely smiled, made another "_hem hem_" and continued with her speech.

"Every leader of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this school, which is good for with out progress there will be decay. Then again, progress for progress' sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions require no further tinkering. A balance, then, must be held..."

Tris wondered what she meant when she said 'Progress for progress' sake must be discouraged'. Whatever it was, it didn't sound good.

"...because some changes will be for the better, while others will be recognized in the fullness of time to be judgemental errors. In the meantime, some habits will be kept and maintained, whereas all that are old and outworn will be abandoned in an attempt to take us forward into a new era of openness and effectiveness, perfecting what needs to be perfected and pruning wherever we find practises that ought to be prohibited." She finished with a flourish and sat down.

Dumbledore clapped politely, although he was the only one who did. Most of the students just looked relieved that her speech was over. Tris noticed that Luna was reading _The Quibbler_.

"Weren't you listening?" she asked her, but before Luna could answer, Cho said, "Why bother? It was just a pointless speech."

"Not entirely," Tris said grimly. "What about at the end, when she said that they would be 'pruning practises that ought to be prohibited'?"

"What about it?"

"I'm not a student here, and even I can tell you what she means. The Ministry, whatever that is, is interfering at Hogwarts through Umbridge. You should have been listening." Cho just shrugged and continued her conversation with her friend.

"So," Tris said, turning back to Luna, "can we go now?"

"One second, we just need to wait for Dumbledore to finish – oh, wait, he's dismissing us. Okay, now we can leave." Tucking her magazine under her arm, Luna stood up. "Do you want me to show you where our common room is?"

"That would be great." Tris smiled; it actually felt genuine. Surprisingly, she was starting to like Luna.

Luna led her out of the Great Hall and along various corridors. Coming to a staircase, they walked up and Luna pointed out to Tris that several staircases above them were moving.

"You really have to watch where you're going, or you could end up on the other side of the castle," she said seriously.

At last they reached a door. It had a fancily carved, silver knocker fastened to it.

Luna reached out and gave it a firm tap.

A cool voice came out of the knocker. "Which came first, the phoenix or the flame?"

"What do you think the answer is?" Luna asked her.

Tris frowned, thinking out loud. "Phoenixes are immortal, aren't they? They burst into flame and then are born again out of the ashes. I would say flame, except without the phoenix there is no flame. Or you could say phoenix, except the phoenix can't be born without the flame. So, I would say that the answer is..." She thought a moment.

"Neither can come without the other before it," she said at last.

"Nicely reasoned," said the cool voice, and the door swung open.

"Good job!" Luna said happily. "When it asks me that, I think of eternity and circles, but yours makes sense too."

She led her into a large room. Several large couches were positioned around a stone fireplace. A huge bookshelf covered one of the walls. In the center of the room was a golden statue of a woman.

"Who is that?" Tris asked, going over to it.

"That's our founder, Rowena Ravenclaw," Luna said reverently. "See the diadem she's wearing? It's legendary. My father and I are trying to recreate it with modern resources. It's supposed to give you wisdom."

Tris looked at the woman. She seemed like a strict sort of woman who reminded her of McGonagall. Glancing down, she saw elegant script carved into the statue's base: _Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure._

This is definitely my house, Tris thought. Books, comfy chairs and a wise founder. The hat was right.

"Are all the houses like this?" she asked Luna.

"I don't think so. They have passwords instead of riddles to enter, and they are all located in a different place and look differently inside." She walked over to a small staircase tucked into the corner. "Come on, let's go upstairs."

Tris followed her, even more things going through her head now than before.

* * *

After Dumbledore's speech, Briar began making his way along the corridors, following Neville and a couple other Griffindors to the common room.

"Hey, Briar, mind if we have a word?" came a call from behind him.

Briar turned around, hands automatically gripping the knives hidden in his shirt sleeves. Seeing that it was Fred and George, he grinned and released the handles.

"Sure, no problem," he said, and almost immediately they pulled him down the hallway until they came to an abandoned corner.

"What's this about?" Briar asked, once again holding onto his knives. The twins seemed like nice guys, but still... being in a deserted corridor didn't do any good for his senses.

One of them – he thought it was George – said, "We overheard you talking with Neville. Apparently you used to be a bit of a troublemaker."

"You might call it that," he said slowly. "I was more of a thief, to be honest."

"We were wondering," George continued, "if you might be willing to put your new respectable personality to the side and become a part of our mission."

"What sort of mission?"

"Mission GSTF," Fred recited importantly.

"And what exactly does that stand for?" Briar inquired.

"Give Students Their Freedom."

"More commonly known as Get Snobbish Teachers Fired," George put in.

"What 'snobbish teachers' are you talking about?" Briar asked curiously.

Fred sighed and said reminiscently, "Back in our innocent days-"

George snorted.

Fred rolled his eyes and said, "Okay, not exactly innocent. But back in _those days,_ when we were younger, we would've been talking about Snape. Or maybe Binns. Not that he's snobbish, so to speak, but he's insanely boring. That is, he's a ghost, so it makes sense-"

"Stop rambling, Fred!" George sighed in fake exasperation. Turning to Briar, he said, "Anyways, now we're more focussed on Umbridge."

"So, our plan is, we're trying to make her quit."

"Or get fired."

"Kicked out."

"Humiliated."

"Mentally wounded."

"Or physically wounded. It really doesn't matter."

"So," Briar said, trying to understand, "what do you want me for? You want me to knife her?"

"Blimey, where'd that come from?" Fred said, surprised.

"Although," George commented, assuming a thoughtful air, "that might be a good back-up plan."

"True," Fred agreed, "but what we're going for right now is to humiliate her. We want to make her rein of terror at Hogwarts as tormenting and hellish as possible. For her, that is, not the students."

"What we need," George put in, "is someone who can help us pull jokes on her, make her mad."

"And you want me?" Briar asked.

"Totally, mate. You're a new kid; she won't come down on you as hard. Besides, all our current ideas are for our new joke shop, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. We'll end up selling them there. But you're from a different planet; I bet you can give us tons of new ideas," George said enthusiastically.

Briar frowned. "I don't think my sisters will be too happy with me if I start pulling tricks on teachers." Listing off on his fingers, he said, "Tris will light me on fire. Daja will also light me on fire. Sandry will make my clothes unravel in the middle of dinner. Not to mention their mental shrieks, which are incredibly painful, and their mental groans, which are annoying. I don't know if this is a good idea."

"C'mon, mate. We'll pay you if you help us out," Fred said pleadingly.

"Are you bribing me?"

"Of course I am."

Briar sighed. "Why exactly do you want me in particular? Apart from the whole former thief thing."

George replied. "Well, for one, we know you have plant magic."

"How did you know that?" Briar asked, surprised.

"We overheard Sandry telling Hermione," Fred said.

"More eavesdropping?" Briar asked with a grin.

"It's how we learn," George replied.

"Anyways, we've been working on these joke boxes," Fred explained. "They're multicoloured pills, one half makes you sick and the other one heals you. For getting out of class early, you know."

"Currently, we've been experimenting with what we call Nosebleed Nougat. For some reason, the antidote makes your nosebleed worse. You keep bleeding till you shrivel up. We thought you might be able to help us with the plant combination."

Briar stared off into space. Part of him wanted to help the twins; it sounded like it could be fun. But another part of him was wary. He didn't want to acquire a trickster's status right away. It was a new school, after all, which meant people didn't look down on his former street rat life. That was a nice change. He didn't exactly want to go back to that.

"I'll think about it," he told them at last. "I don't have anything major against Umbridge right now, except for being a Bag and talking down to us all. Once I have a class with her, then I'll decide."

"Upon entering the demon's lair, the truth will be revealed!" Fred said ominously. George rolled his eyes and punched him, then turned to Briar.

"That's cool," he said. "We'll wait. But really, if you heard the way Dad talks about her, not to mention Percy's attitude towards her teaching methods, you'd join up immediately."

"That doesn't mean much," Fred pointed out. "Percy is the world's biggest jerk of a brother."

"True, but still."

"Out of curiosity, what do you mean by her teaching methods?" Briar asked.

"You'll see," promised Fred.

"As will we all."

"See you around, Briar. Don't wait too long to decide."

Briar watched them as they went back down the hall to the common room.

_You're getting smarter, Briar,_ said Daja's voice in his head.

Briar sighed. _Is that better or worse?_

_Knowing you, it could be either._

Briar chuckled at that, and then walked down the corridor to the entrance.

Instead of a door there was a painting of a very fat lady in a lacy, pink dress.

"Password?" she asked airily, waving her hand in the air in a very elegant and slightly arrogant manner that he recognized. It was like Sandry all on Her Nobleness again.

"Um..." Searching his brain, Briar suddenly remembered a conversation with Neville. He had a miniature cactus, and it was called...

"Mimbulus Mimbletonia," he said.

"Correct."

The portrait swung open and Briar climbed through the door-frame behind it.

The common room was large and comfortable. Bright red and gold banners were draped along the walls. A stone fireplace surrounded by red chairs was in one corner. Several kids sat on the chairs, chatting and laughing, while others headed up a set of stairs in the corner.

Briar went up the set of stairs and turned right. He opened a door and found himself in the boy's dorm.

In the first room there were six large beds. He saw Neville at one of them, carefully arranging his _Mimbulus mimbletonia_ on a small table next to his bed. A couple other boys were already there.

Neville looked up and grinned at him. "Hey, Briar. I think your bed is over here," he said, pointing to one of the beds.

Briar went over to it. His trunk was already sitting on it, and to his delight, his precious _shakkan _was there as well, miraculously still in one piece from their train journey. Immediately he positioned it near a small window so that it could get some of the last rays of sunlight.

The door opened again, this time letting in the black-haired boy Sandry had been talking with earlier. Almost immediately, the other two boys stopped talking and looked at him uncomfortably.

"Hi, guys," said the boy, moving over to his trunk and opening it.

"Hey, Harry," said one of the boys. "Good holiday?"

"Not bad," Harry muttered. Briar thought he looked almost sceptical of something. "How about you, Dean?"

"Yeah, it was okay. Better than Seamus', anyway, he was just telling me," chuckled Dean.

"What happened, Seamus?" asked Neville.

The other boy – Seamus, Briar guessed – didn't answer immediately, instead straightening a poster on the wall. Then, in a rough accent, he said, "Me mam didn't want me to come back."

"What?" asked Harry. "Why?"

"Well," Seamus said awkwardly, "I guess it was... because of you." At the look on Harry's face, he hastily added, "Not just you... it's Dumbledore too..."

By now, Briar had stopped unpacking and was watching them.

"She believes the _Daily Prophet_?" Harry asked angrily. "She thinks that I'm an attention-seeking liar and Dumbledore's a crazy old fool?"

Seamus sighed. "Yeah, something like that."

Harry threw his wand aside and roughly pulled off his robes. Briar turned back to his bed and was unbuttoning his shirt when Seamus said from behind him, "Look, Harry... what did happen last year when... you know, when... with Cedric Diggory and all?" He sounded both nervous and eager to hear.

"What are you asking me for?" Harry retorted. "Why don't you read the _Daily Prophet_ like your mother? That'll tell you everything you need to know."

"Don't you have a go at my mother," Seamus snapped.

"I'll have a go at everyone who calls me a liar! If you're so concerned about me, then go talk to McGonagall, ask to be moved to another dormitory, stop your mother worrying..." Harry looked furious about something. He had picked up his wand again.

"Leave my mother out of this!"

"Whoa, what's going on?" Another boy came in; he looked like Fred and George's brother. He stared at them, taking in the scene before him. Harry was pointing his wand at Seamus, who was standing there with his fists raised.

"He's having a go at my mother!"

"What? Harry wouldn't do that, we met your mother once, she was really nice..." the boy said, confused.

"That's until she started believing every word the stinking _Daily Prophet_'s been writing about me," Harry said angrily.

"Oh," the boy said, comprehension showing on his face. "Oh... right."

"You know what?" Seamus said heatedly. "He's right. I don't want to share a dorm with him. He's mad."

"That's out of order, Seamus," the redhead said, striding over.

"Oh, yeah?" Seamus shouted. "You believe him, do you? You believe all this rubbish about You-Know-Who; you reckon he's telling the truth, do you?"

"Yeah, I do!"

"Then you're mad too," Seamus said in disgust.

"Yeah? Well, unfortunately for you, pal, I'm also a prefect! So unless you want detention for a month, shut your mouth!" the boy said fiercely.

Seamus looked as though detention would be a reasonable price for what he had to say, but with a noise of contempt he turned on his heel and vaulted into bed, pulling the hangings shut with such force that they ripped and fell into a heap on the floor.

The boy glared at him, and then turned to the others. "Anyone else got a problem with Harry?" he asked aggressively.

"My parents are Muggles, mate," said Dean, shrugging. "They don't know nothing about Hogwarts, and I'm smart enough not to tell them."

Seamus glared at him and opened his mouth to say something, then remembered the prefect boy's threat and shut it, instead pulling out his wand. Briar watched him repair the bed hangings curiously; this was only the second time he had seen magic being used with a wand. It was interesting, how just a piece of wood and some mumbled words could cause things to happen.

Neville said, "My gran says the _Prophet_ is rubbish. She's always thought that You-Know-Who would come back one day. If Dumbledore says he's back, then he's back."

"And you?" the prefect said, turning on Briar.

Briar grinned slightly. "I'm an exchange student, I have no idea what's going on and I don't understand half of what you're saying." Thinking a moment, he corrected himself. "No, better make that less than half. I know nothing."

The boy stared at him for a moment, and then nodded. "Right. Sorry, I forgot. My name is Ron, Ron Weasley."

"I'm Briar Moss. Are you related to Fred and George, by any chance?"

Ron sighed. "Yeah, unfortunately. I've got five older brothers and a younger sister."

"Large family."

"Yeah."

After a brief moment in which they stood there uncomfortably, not saying anything, Briar finally asked, "What were you talking about?" He turned to Harry. "I'm still confused. Who's Cedric Diggory and You-Know-Who? What happened last year? And what's a prophet got to do with it?"

Even in the darkened room, Briar was able to see how Harry reacted to those words. The skin around his eyes tightened, and the look in his eyes was one of pain, anger and sorrow.

"I'd rather not say," he said shortly, turning back to his bed.

Briar nodded, though the boy couldn't see him. It was obvious that something had happened, something of which Harry was a part, and which obviously pained him to think of. Not wanting to talk of it... that was something that he could understand. He'd had that feeling before.

He continued changing in silence and just as silently got into the bed. He laid there for a couple long hours, unable to sleep, listening to the sound of the other boys' even breathing.

Sighing, he concluded that this whole bed thing was not going to work. Giving up, he pulled the mattress off and into the corner where his_ shakkan_ was.

There, curled up on the mattress around the miniature tree, he was finally able to sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** Okay, so I know this looks really short, but there's a reason for it! This is just an introduction to the next chapters. I'm going to be having the next four chapters in each of the sibling's POVs for their first day of classes at Hogwarts. I'm going skiing tomorrow, but I should be able to get the next one up afterwards. Now that the explaining is over, on with the story...

Chapter 8 – Timetables

Timetables were handed out the next morning. Over breakfast, the four exchange students compared their schedules through their magical connection. Their timetables rotated around a three-day schedule, with their optional classes and the occasional free period scattered in between the five major subjects; Potions, Charms, History of Magic, Transfiguration, and Defence Against the Dark Arts. Each class was between one and two hours long, depending on the class.

Today, Tris was in Potions and Charms in the morning, with a free period after lunch and then her chosen additional class, Ancient Runes.

Daja was in Transfiguration and had a shared Charms class with Tris in the morning. She also had a free period after lunch and then was going to Divination.

Briar and Sandry, both being in Griffindor, had Defence Against the Dark Arts and Potions classes in the morning, again with free periods after lunch. After that, Briar was in Herbology and Sandry was in Care of Magical Creatures.

The four foster-siblings went off to their classes after breakfast. First, however, they vowed to keep their connection open throughout the day and to report everything to the others in the evening. All four of them were interested to learn as much as possible about their new school.

It was going to be an interesting day.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** IN case you're interested, I had the best ski trip yesterday... it was awesome, conditions were perfect!! Skiing is probably the only sport I'm good at. Sadly, I'm uncoordinated. It's a genetics thing. Anyhow, hope you enjoy this week's installment.

Chapter 9 – Daja

After eating, Daja followed her classmates along a long corridor to their Transfiguration class. Along the way, she talked with Hannah and another girl she had met named Susan Bones.

"So, what exactly is Transfiguration?" she asked them as they walked down the hall.

Hannah explained, "It's basically when you Transfigure an object into something else."

"That's probably not helpful," Susan remarked with a grin, "but I can tell you what the word _Transfigure_ means. To Transfigure an object is to change its' form into that of another object. Like, for example, last year we had to change hedgehogs into pincushions. It was pretty neat."

"It was so hard!" Hannah exclaimed. "Honestly, mine still had legs and ran away. When I found it, it started shooting pins at me!" She sighed. "I was in the hospital for a week while Madam Pomfrey tried to get the pins out."

"So, do you use your wands?" Daja confirmed.

"Yes, we have to use spells to do it."

"Hmm. I wonder how I'll do it then, since I don't have a wand."

Susan frowned. "I'm sure Professor McGonagall has thought of something."

Walking into the room, Daja was pleasantly surprised to see a large, brightly-lit room with long rows of desks in the centre and cages filled with strange, exotic animals lining the walls. She saw a pair of monkeys with striped tails in one huge cage, and a colourful bird in another. It was a really interesting room.

Professor McGonagall stood up at the front of the room. "Take your seats, everyone," she told them. Once they were seated she smiled and said, "Welcome to your Transfiguration class, fifth-years. Rather than lecturing you on your first day, we'll just jump into the lesson." At that, everyone grinned and put their books away. "Today," she continued, "we will be making things invisible." Walking over to a perch on which sat a large, black raven, McGonagall demonstrated the spell. "Get out your wands."

Everyone except Daja pulled wands out.

"Now, the spell you will be using is **Evanesco. **Make sure your pronunciation is correct; it is****said_ev-_an_-ess-ko,_ not _ev-_en_-ess-co_. Repeat after me.**_ Evanesco."_**

"_**Evanesco****,"**_ the class chanted after her.

"Good. Now, we will be starting with Vanishing invertebrates, as they are easier to Vanish, but by the end of the year I expect each and every one of you to at least be able to Vanish a mouse for your NEWT exams. Miss Bones, hand out this box of snails to everyone. Don't be afraid of them, silly girl, they're just snails, they can't bite you."

"But they're... they're... creepy," whimpered Susan as she gingerly took the box, although Daja noticed she said it low enough that McGonagall couldn't hear her.

"Once you have your snails, feel free to begin. Five points to the first person to successfully Vanish the whole of their snail." McGonagall watched the class for a moment, and then she walked over to where Daja sat.

"Now, Miss Kisubo," she said, "I am aware that you do not have a wand. However, the headmaster has informed me that you and your siblings have magic and do not need a wand to use it, correct?"

Daja nodded. "Yes, ma'am. None of us need wands."

"Good. There is one lesson that we teach the first-years. It is a very basic spell for turning needles into matchsticks. Of course, you don't need spells, so I am going to ask you to Transfigure it with any way you can." McGonagall produced a needle and laid it out on Daja's desk.

Daja frowned at it. Her magic was with metal, not wood!

_Briar? _she asked silently._ Do you think you can help me here?_

She felt him looking at it through her eyes. _I might be able to. I'll need you to melt it so that I can work with it better, and it might help if Tris can... loosen it or something. Like, you know how squashed plants can turn into coal and metal? Something like that, except... opposite..._

_Just melt it, _Tri said to them both._ That should work. You won't need me for that, right? 'Cause I'm in the middle of a Potions class here._

_No problem, _Daja told her._I can handle the heat. But what about you, Briar?_

_I'm just taking notes in this Defence class. It's easy. I can help you at the same time._

_Thanks._

_No prob. _Daja felt his magical self flow out through her into the room. Closing her eyes, she joined him in her magic form.

Together, they were able to change the needle. Daja carefully focussed her heat on it, and with a bit of persuasion she was able to coax the metal into listening to Briar. Once she had done that, he was easily able to take over and shift the particles into wood. Lastly, Daja took the tiny bit of metal left over and smeared it on one end, to make it flammable.

Opening her human eyes, Daja saw McGonagall looking at her strangely. Saying nothing, she took the match and inspected it, then struck it against a matchbox that had appeared in her hand. Sure enough, the match lit.

Blowing it out, McGonagall laid it back on the table. "See if you can change it back."

_Are you still there, Briar?_ she called out.

_Yep. Need more help?_

_Please._

This time, Briar pulled the particles of wood apart by force and then Daja used her magical breath as a bellows to suck them in much more tightly, until they turned to metal. She heated the blob of metal up and used her fingers to draw it into a strand slightly thinker than a wire, something she had learned from Frostpine, and then twisted the end into a point. Finally, she got Sandry to look at it and use her sewing experience to make the tiniest hole in one end.

Once again she opened her eyes. _Thanks, Briar,_ she thought as she felt him go back through their connection.

_You're welcome, Daj'._

Smiling, she looked up at the teacher, who was staring at the needle. Picking it up, she inspected it again, and then turned to Daja. "I'm impressed," she said, looking a bit in shock as she said it. "Since you clearly are able to do this, you can work on another basic Transfiguration: turning beetles into buttons." Professor McGonagall waved her wand and a small box with a beetle inside appeared on Daja's desk. Taking the needle, she swept off to the front of the class, leaving Daja staring at the beetle.

_How exactly am I supposed to do this?_she groaned to Briar.

_I can't help you here; you're all on your own,_ he told her.

Concentrating, Daja tried a variety of things, from encasing the beetle in metal to heating it up and then pounding it, using her fist as a mallet. To her shock, the beetle wouldn't die, not even when she heated it to the temperature that caused major burns on humans. Perhaps it had been enchanted.

She was interrupted by McGonagall running over. "Miss Kisubo, watch out!" she cried when she was halfway there.

Startled, Daja opened her real eyes, in time to see that not only was the desk on fire, but the metal-covered beetle was smoking ominously. She ducked just in time, for the next second later the beetle exploded, sending sparks and bits of metal all over the room.

Daja brushed ash off her clothes and looked up from her position on the floor to see McGonagall glaring down at her.

"Sorry..." she said nervously.

McGonagall sighed. "Well, you can do Transfigurations to an extent, at least." Waving her wand, she repaired the desk. Several of the students got their wands and cleaned the floor and walls.

Once everything was finally fixed, McGonagall said, "Daja, I rarely say this, but if you cannot do a spell, please do not practice it in your common-room or any place without a teacher present, for fear of setting the furniture on fire." Flicking her wand, Daja saw something small and black come sailing through the air.

It was the beetle, now made entirely out of metal but still very much alive.

Daja glared at it. If it was possible for a metal beetle to look smug, then that was how it looked.

"Class dismissed," McGonagall announced weakly as the bell rang.

Her face bright red, Daja grabbed her books and left.

Hannah met her down the hall. "That was brilliant! You have more spectacular failures than I do!"

"You're welcome," Daja muttered.

Hannah laughed. "I'm only teasing you, Daja. It was pretty cool, though. Honestly, I've never seen McGonagall look so confused before!"

Their next class was Charms with the Ravenclaws. The room was about the same size, with posters illustrating various spells covering the walls, and a very short man standing on a pile of books at the front of the room.

Daja saw Tris sitting at a desk by herself, so she went over to sit by her.

"So, how was your class?" Tris asked her.

Daja sighed. "Terrible. The whole needle-matchstick thing worked fine when Briar helped me, but then I blew up the room attempting to turn a beetle into a button."

Tris groaned. "I thought you were supposed to be the responsible one."

"Not anymore."

Their teacher introduced himself as Professor Flitwick. He immediately had the class practice their Summoning Charms from the previous year. Like McGonagall, he had the two girls try the same spell with their own magic. Their task was to Summon a colour-coded piece of wood to the correctly coloured box sitting on their desk.

Daja watched Susan as she muttered, "_Accio _dark blue stick!" and pointed her wand at the pile. The wood floated through the air towards her and landed neatly in her dark blue box.

Thoughtfully, Daja stared at the pile. She had to Summon a light purple piece of wood to match her box. Reaching into her magic, she reached out and lashed a thin wire of power to the wood and forcefully dragged it through the air to the box. Beside her, Tris was undoing one of her braids and using a gentle gust of wind to carry a golden piece of wood towards her.

The rest of class consisted of them attempting a Colour-Change Charm on their piece of wood, which, Flitwick assured them, "there will be plenty of time to practice before your exams." Neither Tris nor Daja were able change their wood's colour and were assigned to practice it for homework.

After lunch, Daja had a free period before her Divination class. Tris mentioned something about a library before hurrying off, so Daja followed Hannah and Susan outside.

It was a sunny day; the sky was clear blue with the occasional cloud. The sunlight was very warm for autumn; many students were outside enjoying the fresh air.

"So," Daja asked them, "where should we go?"

Susan thought a moment. "Well, since we're fifth-years we could go down to Hogsmeade, it's a little village nearby; there are all sorts of magic shops down there. We won't be able to stay too long but we can at least show you around a bit."

"Sounds good," Daja said with a smile. The three of them walked down a stone path, through a large metal gate, and into the village.

The houses were very small and were made out of wood. A fair amount of people wandered down the short streets. There were quite a few stores; Daja saw small cafes, stores that sold school supplies, a candy shop and a joke store.

Hannah took them down to a place called the Three Broomsticks. It was a warm and cheerful room, with carved chairs and a fireplace. She ordered three drinks called Butterbeers and they sat down to drink them. As soon as Daja took a sip, the hot drink just seemed to flow through her and warm her up. There, they spent the remainder of their free period laughing and chatting away with each other and the occasional friend of Hannah's or Susan's.

After a while, Susan glanced down at a timepiece she wore on her wrist, which Daja had learned was called a watch. "Oh no, class is going to start in just a couple minutes!" she cried, leaping up out of her chair and accidentally knocking over the Butterbeer mugs.

They ran off back to Hogwarts Castle. By the time they got inside, all three of them were panting hard.

"What... do you have... next?" Hannah managed to gasp out.

"Divination," Daja replied.

"I'm in... Herbology... I'll see you... later..." she said as she ran off down one of the halls.

"I'll show you where the class is," Susan said, and lead Daja up a flight of stairs.

After several minutes running through the castle, she stopped at the base of one of the towers. "It's just up there..." she pointed. "I have to go now, see you at dinner."

"Thanks," Daja called after her as she went up the stairs.

At the top, she was greeted by a thin woman who wore a pair of huge, thick glasses that magnified her eyes. "Hello... welcome... take a seat..." she said vaguely, gesturing to a cluster of large, poofy chairs.

Daja sat down at a small table next to two boys she recognized from Sandry's thoughts as being called Ron and Harry.

"Good day," the woman said in a misty, dreamy voice. "Welcome back to Divination. For those who do not know me, my name is Professor Trelawney. In this class, you will be learning the secrets of the future, and be developing your Inner Eye to assist you in Seeing Beyond. I have, of course, been following your fortunes most carefully over the holidays, and am delighted to see you all safely return to Hogwarts - as, of course, I knew you would.

"Now, today we will be analyzing dreams. The interpretation of dreams is a very useful way to divine the future. You will find on your tables a copy of _The Dream Oracle,_ by Inigo Imago. Use the _Oracle_ to interpret each other's most recent dreams."

Daja opened up the book and scanned the introduction page. Initially she had been interested to learn more about seeing the future, as it was something that she had often observed Tris and Nico doing, but it appeared that they would not be learning any types of scrying in this class.

"So," she asked Harry, "what sort of dreams have you had recently?"

Harry looked uncomfortable. "Um, nothing I remember." Turning to Ron, he repeated Daja's question.

"Well," Ron said thoughtfully, "I dreamed I was playing Quidditch last night; what do you suppose that means?"

"Probably that you'll be eaten by a giant marshmallow or something," Harry said glumly, staring at the book without interest. Sighing, he picked it up and began flipping through.

"This class seems a bit... slow," Daja remarked after half an hour which had been spent trying to interpret Ron's vague dream.

"Yeah, Trelawney's teaching is like that. Honestly, I wish she'd get fired. She's never made any real predictions or anything."

"Except for the time she said that Neville would break one of her teacups, and it actually happened," Harry pointed out.

"Yeah, but you don't need to be a Seer to guess that."

"Hey, I'm not that clumsy," protested a brown-haired boy that Daja guessed to be Neville.

"No offense, Neville, but yeah, you are," Ron replied.

Neville sighed. "I wish it wasn't so well-known, though, you know?" Turning back to his partner, he said, "Anyway, as I was saying, the giant scissors were wearing my granny's best hat..."

At last the class came to an end. Professor Trelawney handed out notebooks and told them to keep a dream diary for a month, which Ron and Harry found extremely frustrating. As Daja followed them out the door, she heard Ron grumbling about how much homework he already had.

Dinner in the Great Hall was pretty much the same as their first day. Looking around, Daja saw her siblings eating at their tables.

_How did your day go?_ she asked them.

_We'll tell you later,_promised Briar. His mental voice sounded annoyed about something.

_After dinner, meet us on the fourth floor corridor, by that wall hanging of the knight,_Sandry told her. _We'll find an empty classroom and talk in there._

_Sounds good._


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** Okay, so before you start reading I just have a quick thing to point out. As we all know, this is Tris' day, and thus she'll be in her Ancient Runes class. I have scanned through the books and found virtually no mention of Ancient Runes, and so I have pretty much made the entire thing up. The teacher's name and names of books I found on a very useful website (I'll put a link in if I can) and the rest is made up. If you have any suggestions/ideas, feel free to let me know.

Disclaimer: All characters are credited to their respectful authors. However, how they are depicted in this chapter is credited to me, as is Ancient Runes, seeing as how JKR never really went into detail about that particular class.

--

Chapter 10 – Tris

Tris walked down the hall, behind the other Ravenclaws. Much to her disappointment, Luna was a year younger than her, so they wouldn't have any classes together. She was surprised at feeling that way about someone other than her foster-siblings; she didn't make friends that easily, yet somehow she and Luna just seemed to connect. Maybe it was the teasing thing; she had learned that many of the other students called Luna 'Loony' and thought she was crazy. Because of that, Tris could understand her. To be honest, the whole 'friends' thing unnerved her a bit.

She trailed behind two other fifth-year girls named Padma Patil and Lisa Turpin. They didn't even seem to notice her and instead were talking excitedly about other people she didn't know, mainly boys. Not that she cared. She just wanted to follow them to their next class.

They went down many flights of stairs, deeper and deeper into the castle, until at last they reached a dark, damp, musty room that had a certain resemblance to a dungeon. This, Tris guessed, was the Potions room.

Once inside, they took their seats at a series of long tables. Each table had what looked like small fireplaces set up on top of them. Large cupboards were positioned against the far wall, and a blackboard was fastened to the wall that faced the desks.

Tris sat down at a table with Lisa and Padma, as well as another girl.

"Oh, hi," Lisa said indifferently. "You're Tris, the new girl, right?"

With difficulty, Tris restrained herself from saying 'As if you didn't know that' and instead answered her with a nod.

"I'm Lisa, and these are Padma and Mandy," she said, twisting a strand of straightened blonde hair around one finger.

Padma nodded to her, and the brown haired Mandy smiled at her. "I love your hair," she said. "I wish I had red hair. I had highlights put in, but my hair is so dark that they're not that obvious."

"Um... thanks," Tris said uncertainly.

Just then, the door to the classroom opened again, and a tall, black-haired man swept into the room. He wore a huge black cape that flapped around him as he walked.

"Settle down," he said icily as he shut the door.

Going to the front of the room, he turned on his heel and stared at them for a moment before saying, "Good morning. For those who do not know me, my name is Professor Snape." He spoke with a cold authority and seemed to look right through them, as though they were unimportant. Tris had noticed that as soon as he entered the room, the entire class had fallen silent.

"Before we begin today's lesson," Professor Snape said, "I think it is appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting your OWL exams, which will allow you to prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic though some of you are, I expect each of you to at least scrape an 'Exceeds Exceptations' in your OWL, or suffer my extreme displeasure. As Ravenclaws, I expect you to live up to your house standards." He stared around the room; a couple of the students fidgeted uncomfortably at his words.

"After this year, of course," he continued, "many of you will cease studying with me, as I take only the very best into my NEWT Potions classes. But, unfortunately, we have another year to go before that happy moment of farewell; so whether or not you are intending to attempt NEWT, I suggest that all of you concentrate your efforts at maintaining those high marks you are all... _legendary_ for." He gazed around the room coldly.

"Today we shall be mixing up a potion called the Draught of Peace, which calms anxiety and soothes agitation. Be warned: if you are too heavy-handed with the ingredients, you will put the drinker into a potentially irreversible sleep, so you will need to pay close attention to what you are doing."

With a wave of his wand, he added, "The ingredients and method are on the board, and everything you need is in the cupboard. You have an hour and a half... go."

Tris scanned the board and then jumped up to grab her ingredients. It looked like a complex potion, but she was looking forward to it. Challenges were always fun for her.

She scooped up an armful of supplies and dumped them into a spare cauldron, before hurrying back to her table and laying them out. Many of the ingredients she had never heard of. Powdered moonstone? Hellebore syrup? Tris thought that she had heard of moonstone before, but it probably was very different in Emelan than here.

Suddenly, Daja's voice spoke in her head. _Briar? _she called._ Do you think you can help me here?_

Tris listened in curiously as he said, _I might be able to. I'll need you to melt it so that I can work with it better, and it might help if Tris can... loosen it or something. Like, you know how squashed plants can turn into coal and metal? Something like that, except... opposite..._

Tris looked through their connection and saw that they were talking about how best to turn a match into a needle. An interesting task, she thought.

_Just melt it, _she said to them both._ That should work. You won't need me for that, right? 'Cause I'm in the middle of a Potions class here._

_No problem, _Daja told her._ I can handle the heat._

Tris blocked them out and focussed on her potion.

Sure enough, it seemed as though Snape couldn't have set them to do a more complex, precise potion. Everything was measured; from the exact order and amount of the ingredients, to the number of times you had to stir it and what direction to stir it in, you had to have it all exactly right. There even was a point halfway through where you had to lower the heat of the flames to a specific degree and keep it there for the exact length of time.

The professor passed by her cauldron several times, staring into it with a calculating look. Each time he continued on without any comments, which Tris took to mean that hers was, so far, satisfactory.

With ten minutes left, Snape called out, "A light silver vapour should now be rising from your potion."

Tris glanced around the room. The surface of her potion was a shimmering mist of silver, and so were several other cauldrons, but most of them had vapour of varying shades of grey. Beside her, Mandy was muttering spells under her breath as she prodded the base of her cauldron, trying to light the flames.

"Do you need help?" Tris asked her quietly.

Mandy nodded, flustered. "If you can, that'd be great."

Tris reached back and ran her hand through her hair, collecting a handful of sparks from her braids. Holding them in her palm, she pointed them towards the base of Mandy's cauldron, and whispered, "Strike." The miniature lightning bolt leapt from her fingertips to ignite the burner.

As the flames licked the sides of her cauldron, Mandy whispered, "Wow. I don't know how you did that, but thanks."

Tris smiled slightly and returned to her own potion.

A moment later, Snape said to the class, "Fill one flagon with a sample of your potion, label it clearly with your name, and bring it up to my desk for marking. Your homework for next class will be twelve inches of parchment on the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion making."

Tris glanced around, wondering where to get a flagon from, when Mandy handed one to her with a grin. "Looking for this?"

Tris accepted it. "Thanks. I'll need to get some, I guess."

"No problem. Besides, you helped me with my potion. If it hadn't been heated for the right amount of time, it would have been ruined."

Tris scooped some of her potion into the flagon. She wrote her name on it and carried it up to Snape's desk.

He surprised her by looking directly at her. "That was... fairly well done, for a first attempt," he told her.

She nodded and returned to her seat.

"What did he say to you?" the blonde girl Lisa asked her.

"He complimented me on my potion."

"What?! He never compliments anyone! I mean, I make _perfect _potions, and he's never even looked at me for them!" Indignantly, Lisa stalked off.

Tris paid no attention to her. Who cared what she thought?

Beside her, Mandy had heard the whole brief conversation. She rolled her eyes. "Ignore her," she told Tris. "She's a stuck-up snob. She gets on everyone's nerves. I don't know how Padma stands to be near her."

They walked together to their Charms class. Tris was interested to see Daja and find out how her Transfiguration had gone.

The Hufflepuffs weren't in the classroom yet when they got there, so Tris sat down at an empty seat. A few minutes later, Daja walked in and came to sit beside to her.

"So, how was your class?" Tris asked her.

Daja sighed. "Terrible. The whole needle-matchstick thing worked fine when Briar helped me, but then I blew up the room attempting to turn a beetle into a button."

Tris groaned in sympathy. "I thought you were supposed to be the responsible one."

"Not anymore." Daja sighed.

The short man standing at the front of his class came forward into the light of the window. "Good morning, fifth-years, my name is Professor Flitwick," he said cheerfully. "Today, I would like you to review your Summoning Charms from last year. Remember, the incantation is _Accio_, and make sure you flick your wand correctly. On each of your desks is a coloured box; for your review, you will Summon the stick with a colour corresponding to your box." He glanced down towards Tris and Daja as he added, "For our new students, please attempt to Summon the stick with your own magic."

Tris glanced down at the golden box in front of her and then across the room, where a jumbled pile of sticks sat on the floor. She studied it for a moment before locating a single golden stick amongst the others.

She reached back and unwound part of one braid. A thin gust of air swept out around her. Going into her magic, she grasped the end of the breeze with her mental fingers and rode it along to the pile. It took her a couple tries, but in the end she was able to extricate the golden stick from the stack. From there, it was easy to carry it back to her.

Once she was done, she retied her braid, weaving the wind back into her hair.

"Well done, class, well done indeed!" Flitwick cried out happily as the last stick soared back to its owner. "I'm happy to see that you still remember last year's Charms lessons. Now, I am going to teach you Colour-Change Charms, which will most certainly be on your OWLs. If you can't get it, that is fine, there will be plenty of time to practice before the exams."

Tris ignored Flitwick's wand instructions, instead trying to use her own magic, but as she suspected her powers were unable to change colours.

As the bell rang, she went off to lunch. Afterwards, Daja invited her to come outside with her new Hufflepuff friends, but she wanted to see the library and so refused.

Tris walked down a wide hallway towards where Mandy had said the library was. She soon saw a large doorway. Pushing the heavy wooden door open, she found herself in heaven.

It was a huge room. Giant bookshelves lined the walls and were placed in rows all through the room, and each shelf was jam-packed with books. There were only a couple other students there, which meant that Tris practically had the entire collection of books to herself.

First, she reached into the blue shoulder bag she had bought in Diagon Alley and pulled out a copy of _The Quibbler._ She had noticed an article about runes on the cover and had been curious to read more before her Ancient Runes class, so Luna had given her a spare copy of the magazine.

Opening the magazine, she flipped to page 57 and started reading the article on runes.

_Secrets of the Ancient Runes – Revealed!_

_It has long been thought that the ancient beings that first started writing in runes had used them as a code, to pass along secret messages to those who understand them. Now, our skilled runes experts have proven that, by turning runes upside down, you are able to reveal ancient spells previously unknown._

_The runes printed below may look like gibberish, but if you possess the talent to decipher them for what they really are, they read, "__Double, double, Toile and Trouble, __Fire burn and Cauldron bubble," which is a line from Shakespeare's famed play._

_It is thought that, in the mentioning of a potion being created, that the wizard Shakespeare was making a record of a spell he had invented during a time when meddling with spells had fierce consequences. It is our belief that he wrote of the Witches creating a spell purposely to draw attention to those lines._

_All you must do is turn this magazine upside-down, and you will discover a spell invented in Shakespearean times, indeed, a spell created by Shakespeare himself: a spell to turn your enemy's ears into Kumquats!_

At reading that last line, Tris stopped and stared blankly into space. What on Earth was a kumquat? She had never heard of it before.

_I'm getting a bit tired of running into strange words, _she thought sadly. _Back home I knew everything. Here, I'm just as useful as Briar as far as defining words go. Kumquats, moonstones, hellebore... they have no meaning to me._

_Hey, I heard that._ Through Briar's eyes, Tris caught a faint glimpse of the red-haired twins standing in front of him.

_What mischief are you up to now? _she asked him.

_Nothing. _He immediately blocked her out.

With a sigh, Tris closed the magazine and tucked it back into her bag. Standing up, she walked down the aisles of books, searching for a dictionary.

She soon found one and rifled through it until finding the definition of Kumquat. Apparently it was a small, oval-shaped fruit that was coloured in shades of orange. She was a bit surprised that it was a fruit; who wanted to change their enemy's ears into fruit? But then again, it was beyond her as to why anyone would want to change their ears into anything other than ears.

For the rest of her free period, Tris did research on moonstones for her Potions essay. By the time the bell rang, she had gone way past the required twelve inches and was closer to twenty-two.

At last it was time for her Ancient Runes class. Tris walked up a flight of stairs to the third-floor classroom. Once inside, she sat down at an empty table and was soon joined by a brown-haired girl.

Their teacher walked into the room. She had very light brown hair and, to her surprise, wore a dress that looked similar in style to Tris' instead of the traditional wizards' cloak.

"Hello," she greeted them. "My name is Bathsheba Babbling. I ask that you move away from tradition in this class and call me Mme. Sheba, rather than Professor Babbling. I have been the Runes teacher at Hogwarts for nearly ten years and am considered a bit of an expert in the subject.

"For this year, we will be focussed on the study and translation of runes. Later on we shall proceed to the writing of runes. Until then, it is simply a matter of interpretation."

She looked around the classroom and smiled. "I will be providing several copies of _Ancient Runes Made Easy_;however, you should each have your own copy of _Magical Hieroglyphs and Logograms_. Another book that will be required later on in the year is the_Spellman's Syllabary_. These texts will both help you in your learning of the art of runes."

"I'm so excited," whispered the girl sitting across from Tris, "I can't wait to learn more about runes. My name is Hermione, by the way. I met your sister Sandry; she said that your name is Tris. All your magic powers sound so interesting, I've never heard of anything like them!" Hermione looked at her curiously. "Is it true that you have lightning and wind and stuff in your _hair_?"

Tris nodded. "Yes, my hair is sort of like my mage kit."

"That is so cool! I'll have to talk to you sometime, all four of you for that matter, I need to figure out exactly how your powers work!" she exclaimed.

Tris studied her for a moment. "Are you a bit of a... smarter student, by any chance?"

"I don't want to sound like I'm bragging, but yes, I am."

"Maybe... in exchange for telling you about my powers... you could teach me more about your world?" Tris asked her hopefully.

"Sure, I'd be happy to!" Hermione glanced up towards the teacher. "Oh, we'd better stop talking now, we'll interrupt the lesson."

Mme. Sheba turned and walked over to a large blackboard. She pulled out a piece of chalk and briskly began writing lines of runes all across the board.

"Today," she said as she wrote, "we will start work on one type of rune. Who can tell me what the types are? Miss Granger?"

Hermione immediately said, "Runes are divided into two categories, alphabetical and symbolical. Alphabetical runes stand for each letter of the alphabet, whereas symbolical runes can each represent a word or phrase."

"Excellent definition, take five points for Griffindor. Now, the runes I'm writing are the entire alphabet. Get out your quills and parchment and copy them down."

Tris and Hermione began writing out the list of runes. Once everyone in the class had copied the runes onto their papers, their teacher handed out sheets of parchment with more runes on them and told them to translate the page.

"There will be a quiz next class on translating alphabetical runes, so make sure to study hard," she told the class. At mention of a test, several of the students groaned.

Tris immediately got to work deciphering the runes.

"Do you know why Mme. Sheba doesn't use her wand to write on the board?" she asked Hermione, recalling how Snape had made the list of ingredients appear on the blackboard with a simple wave of his wand.

"Yes, actually, I do. I remember asking her last year when I took this class," Hermione replied. "She says that waving a wand is good and all, but it doesn't allow you to fully appreciate the art of runes. She thinks that taking the time to write them out is a lot better than using spells. Because of that, she makes us write them out be hand as well."

"That makes sense."

"Yes, that's what I think too, but of course there is always somebody who disagrees." Hermione shook her head. "I mean, why take the class if you don't agree with the teacher?"

The two of them worked together for the rest of the class. Hermione was very friendly and willing to help her out with some of the more difficult runes. As a result, by the time the bell rang Tris felt that she had made one new friend. That alone made her happier. Maybe she could fit in here.

Dinner passed by uneventful; Tris sat next to Luna and Mandy and talked with them about their classes. Partway through dessert, she was interrupted by a voice in her head.

_How did your day go?_ she heard Daja asking them.

_We'll tell you later,_ replied Briar. He sounded annoyed about something.

_After dinner, meet us on the fourth floor corridor, by that wall hanging of the knight,_ Sandry told them. _We'll find an empty classroom and talk in there._

_Sounds good,_ Daja replied.

_I'll meet you there,_ Tris agreed. She wondered what stories the others had to tell.

--

Ok, here's the link: /hogwarts/w_pl_

I hope it works. If nothing else, you can Google 'HP Lexicon' and find the home page. It's dead useful for Fanfics and other misc stories, especially if you're like me and are too lazy to go through every single book in a search for one specific charm or potion.

Last word: I will try to update every week from now on. I have major tests this week, but I'll still try. Stay tuned...


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **Thanks toJaneSilverfor giving me the Mandrake idea. Hope you enjoy!

--

Chapter 11 – Briar

Briar munched on a roll as he followed Harry and Ron to their first class. He had slept in that day, as was usual when he was surrounded by the green glow of his magical shakkan, and had been late for breakfast. He'd had barely enough time to sneak a few rolls off the table before they were dismissed and sent off to class.

"I can't believe this schedule!" Ron moaned beside him. "Both Snape and that Umbridge woman in the morning! Not to mention Trelawney this afternoon. Honestly, that's just torture."

"Stop exaggerating, Ron," sighed a girl named Hermione as she and Sandry came up beside them. "None of them are that bad."

Ron snorted disbelievingly.

"Well," Hermione acknowledged, "maybe Trelawney. But, really, we have no idea hwo Umbridge teaches, and Snape is, well, just Snape. There's nothing unusual there."

"But getting _all three_? In _one day_?"

"We have to have them sometime. Besides, that means you'll have something to look forward to tomorrow," Hermione pointed out cheerfully.

They walked off down the hall until arriving at large, wooden door. Going inside, they found themselves in a brightly-lit classroom. Hermione and Sandry sat next to each other at one desk while Briar went over to sit with Ron and Harry.

At the front of the room was a little balcony with a staircase leading up to it. The door swung open, and in stepped Umbridge. She was wearing a fluffy pink cardigan and still had that large black bow positioned on the top of her head.

_Not much fashion sense eh?_ Briar thought to Sandry.

_Who are you to be discussing the delicate art of fashion? _was her reply.

_Hey, at least I know more than her. She looks like a frog. Better yet, a toad._

Sandry rolled her eyes. _Don't say that out loud._

_I'm not some bleat-brained kid! I know when to keep my trap shut. You, of all people, should know that by now._

Professor Umbridge smiled widely at them. "Well, good morning to you!" she said to them once the class had sat down.

A couple people mumbled 'good morning' in reply.

"Tut, tut," Umbridge said, "that won't do, now, will it? I should like you to please reply, 'Good morning, Professor Umbridge'. Let's try once more. Good morning, class!"

"Good morning, Professor Umbridge!" they chanted back at her.

"There, now, that wasn't too difficult, was it?" she replied sweetly. "Wands away and quills out, please."

Ron muttered to Briar under his breath, "Never has there been a class ordered 'wands away' that hasn't ended in half the class falling asleep out of boredom," as he tucked his wand into his bookbag. Briar thought that explained the gloomy looks being exchanged by many students in the class.

Professor Umbridge tapped the board with her own wand and words appeared at once. "Now, your teaching in this area has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it?" she asked, turning to them. "Your constant changing in teachers, many of which who have been not approved by the Ministry, has resulted in you all being sadly behind where you are expected to be in your OWL year.

"You will be pleased to know, however, that this year we will be correcting your past lessons and following a carefully structured, theory-centered, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic. Copy the following down, please."

She waved her wand again, and more words appeared. Briar pulled out his brand-new quill and started jotting them down. For several minutes the room was full of the sound of scratching quills on parchment.

_Defence Against the Dark Arts: A Return to Basic Principles_

_Course Aims_

_1) Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic._

_2) Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can legally be used._

_3) Placing the use of defensive magic in context for practical use._

Once everyone had copied down the Course Aims, Umbridge asked them, "Do you all have you copies of _Defensive Magical Theory_, by William Slinkhard?"

There was a dull murmur of assent throughout the room.

"I think we will try that again. When I ask a question, I want you all to reply with either 'Yes, Professor Umbridge', or 'No, Professor Umbridge'. So, do you all have your copies?"

"Yes, Professor Umbridge," chanted the class. Several of them looked a bit exasperated at how Umbridge was talking to them.

"Good," she said. "Turn to page five and read Chapter One, 'Basics for Beginners'. There will be no need to talk."

Briar rummaged through his bag and found the book she was talking about, thanking the gods that Tris had bought all their school books for them. He turned to page 5 and began to read.

The book was incredibly boring. Briar could soon feel his concentration sliding; he wasn't used to reading this much. After reading the same line several times and still not understanding a word of it, Briar skipped onto the next page. Staring blankly at it, he concluded that trying to read and understand this book was pointless. In his opinion, it was lucky for that Slinkhard fellow that he could read at all.

_Briar? _came Daja's voice from inside his head._ Do you think you can help me here?_

Closing his eyes, he reached out through their connection. Through her eyes, he could see a metal needle and could hear McGonagall asking her to turn it into a matchstick. _I might be able to_, he told her._ I'll need you to melt it so that I can work with it better, and it might help if Tris can... loosen it or something. Like, you know how squashed plants can turn into coal and metal? Something like that, except... opposite..._

_Just melt it, _Tris said to them both._ That should work. You won't need me for that, right? 'Cause I'm in the middle of a Potions class here._

_No problem, _Daja replied._ I can handle the heat. But what about you, Briar?_

_I'm just taking notes in this Defence class. _Or at least attempting too, he privately thought. _It's easy. I can help you at the same time. _That definitely wasn't a lie.

_Thanks._

_No prob. _Extending his magical self, he was able to flow out through her into the classroom. He could feel it when she joined him in her magical form.

Together, they were able to change the needle. Daja carefully focussed her heat on it, and with a bit of persuasion she was able to coax the metal into listening to Briar. Once she had done that, he was easily able to take over and go through the particles. By enlarging the distance between them and infusing it with his green magic, he was able to turn it into wood. Lastly, on his advice, Daja took the tiny bit of metal left over and smeared it on one end, to make it flammable.

In his magical form, he watched as McGonagall struck the match against the box and lit it. Blowing it out, she laid it back on the table. "See if you can change it back."

_Are you still there, Briar?_ his sister called out.

_Yep. Need more help? _he asked her.

_Please._

This time, Briar pulled the particles of wood apart by force and then watched as Daja used her magical breath as a bellows to suck them in much more tightly, until they turned to metal. She was able to make it thin like wire, and then they got Sandry to look at it and use her sewing experience to make the tiniest hole in one end.

_Thanks, Briar,_ she said to him, relieved.

_You're welcome, Daj'_, he responded as he went back into his own body.

He turned back to his book, his connection with Daja still open enough that he could faintly hear McGonagall telling her to turn a beetle into a button.

_How exactly am I supposed to do this?_ she groaned to Briar.

_I can't help you here; you're all on your own,_ he told her with a grin as he drew out of her mind.

Bored yet again, Briar glanced around the class and caught sight of Hermione. Instead of reading, she was sitting there with her hand up, staring fixedly at Umbridge.

Briar watched her and Umbridge for over ten minutes. Umbridge was pointedly ignoring Hermione's hand, and Hermione was just as pointedly ignoring the book that lay unopened on her desk.

After a while, when nearly half the class were staring at the two of them rather than doing their reading, Umbridge finally seemed to decide that she could ignore the situation no longer. She walked over to Hermione's desk as though she had just noticed her and asked, "Do you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?"

"Not about the chapter, no."

"Well, we're reading right now, so if you have other questions you shall have to ask at the end of class," said Umbridge with another of her false smiles.

"I've got a query about your course aims," said Hermione.

Professor Umbridge raised her eyebrows as she replied, "Well, Miss Granger, I think that the course aims are perfectly clear if you read through them carefully."

"Well, I don't," Hermione said bluntly. "There's nothing on there about using defensive spells."

There was a brief silence, during which many of the students turned to look at the board in confusion.

"Why, Miss Granger," Umbridge said with a little laugh, "I can't imagine any situation arising in my classroom in which you would need to use defensive spells! You aren't surely expecting that you will be attacked during class?"

"We're not going to be using magic?" Ron exclaimed loudly.

"Students raise their hand when they wish to speak in my class, Mr Weasley."

Ron immediately stuck his hand in the air, but Umbridge turned away from him and back to Hermione, whose hand was up once more.

"Yes, Miss Granger? You have another question?"

"Yes," Hermione replied. "Surely the whole point of Defense Against the Dark Arts is to practise defensive spells?"

Umbridge stared at her. "Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Granger?" she asked her.

"No, but-"

"Then I'm afraid you are not qualified to decide what the whole point of any class is. Wizards much older and cleverer than you have devised our new program of study. You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way-"

"What use is that?" Harry called out. "If we're going to be attacked, it won't be in a-"

"Hand, Mr Potter!" Glancing away from Harry, she turned back to the class, many of which had their hands in the air. "You have a question too, Mr Thomas?"

"Yes," said one of the boys, "I mean, it's like what Harry said, right? If we're going to be attacked, it won't be risk free."

"I repeat," Umbridge said, smiling in an irritating fashion, "are you expecting to be attacked during my class?"

"No, but-"

Professor Umbridge sighed. "I do not mean to criticize the way things have been run in this school, but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed – not to mention some _extremely_ dangerous half-breeds."

"If you mean Lupin, he was the best we ever-"

"Hand, Mr Thomas! As I was saying, you have been introduced to spells that are complex and inappropriate for your age. You have been frightened into believing that you are likely to meet Dark attacks every other day-"

"No we haven't, we just-"

"Your hand is not up, Miss Granger!" she cried. She turned back to face them. "It is my understanding that my predecessor not only performed illegal curses in front of you, he performed them on you, which of course should have been an indicator that he was not Ministry-approved! However, in your state of fear, we have made this new program. End of discussion. Go back to your reading." Umbridge started back to her desk when she saw another girl's hand up. "Yes, Miss Patil?"

"Well, isn't there a practical bit in our exams? Aren't we supposed to actually perform the defensive spells?"

"As long as you have studied the theory, you should be able to perform the spells," Professor Umbridge said dismissively as she proceeded to her desk and sat down.

"Without ever practising them?" the girl said in astonishment. "Are you telling us that we'll be able to do them our first time?"

"I repeat, as long as you have studied your theory-"

"And what good is theory going to be in the real world?" Briar asked her, his hand up already. "I mean, I'm from someplace different, but even there we actually do what we learn, not run around pretending to know it and then not be able to do it when we need to." Behind him, he could hear Sandry groan slightly. _I figured it was time to put my bit in,_ he told her.

Umbridge gazed at him and then said softly, "This is school, Mr Moss, not the real world."

"So you're not preparing us for what's out there? Because it's not like we're going be in school forever, you know," he pointed out.

"There is nothing out there that will harm you, Mr Moss," she repeated.

"Oh, really?" Harry said incredulously.

"Who do you think wants to attack children like yourselves?" Umbridge asked him.

"Hmm... let's think. How about... just maybe... _Lord Voldemort_?" he retorted.

The reactions of the class at those two words surprised Briar. Several of the girls shrieked; a couple students fell off their chairs; and most of them gasped or stared at Harry in shock. Umbridge, however, was staring at Briar with a grimly satisfied expression on her face.

"Ten points from Griffindor, Mr Potter."

The entire classroom was silent, staring at Harry and Umbridge.

Umbridge stood up from her desk. "Let me make one thing clear. You have been told that a certain Dark wizard has returned from the dead. _This is a lie_."

"It is not a lie!" Harry said angrily. "I saw him, I fought him!"

"Detention, Mr Potter!" said Umbridge triumphantly. "Five o'clock tonight at my office. I repeat, this is a lie. The Ministry guarantees that none of you are in danger from any Dark wizards or witches. And now, you will kindly proceed with your reading." She sat back down and watched them expectantly.

Harry, however, stood up. Ron whispered softly, "Don't say anything, mate, just leave it," but Harry ignored him.

"So, according to you," he said, his voice shaking with fury, "you think that Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord?"

Briar sat there, stunned. Was this what had happened, last June, that Harry was so reluctant to mention? That might explain the fact that everyone in the class was staring at him, not even daring to breath, as though he might say more.

Umbridge said coldly, "His death was a tragic accident."

"He was murdered," Harry said tightly. "Voldemort killed him and you know it."

Umbridge stared at him a moment, then beckoned to him. "Come up here." Briar watched Harry as he walked up the aisle. At her desk, Umbridge was busily scribbling a note on a roll of pink parchment. When Harry came closer, she rolled it up and tapped it with her wand to close it.

"Take this to Professor McGonagall," she said grimly.

Harry took it from her and walked out, slamming the door behind him. Umbridge turned back to the class, once again fixing that false smile onto her face.

"Page five, Basics for Beginners," she told them, and everyone turned back to their books.

The rest of class went by quickly, and at last the bell rang. Briar followed the Griffindors down the hallway.

Behind him, Hermione sighed. "Harry really shouldn't have done that; he's so defensive nowadays, he lashes out at the slightest remark."

"Well, can you blame him?" Ron asked her. "After what happened?" Briar noticed that they both kept their voices down low.

In Briar's opinion, their Potions class could have gone worse, but on the other hand, it could have been a lot better. Professor Snape was a strict teacher who unashamedly took points away from the class for the slightest things. He criticized everyone except Hermione on their brewing of the Draught of Peace, which was an extremely difficult potion to make.

At the end of class, Briar borrowed a flask and ladled his attempt at the potion into it. His had turned a dark, blood red rather than light silver, mostly due to his experimentation of the ingredients. It seemed he still had a way to go before inventing his own potions. At least his was better than Neville's – his had a think, sticky consistency and was more solid than liquid. He had to use a spoon to scrape it out of his cauldron.

They had a hearty lunch, during which Briar made up for his lack of breakfast by eating nearly twice as much as he usually would, including three pieces of the most delicious dessert he had ever had. As a result, the large apple pie in front of him was devoured in a matter of minutes.

It seemed as though everyone in Griffindor and possibly the entire school for that matter had heard of Harry's argument with Umbridge. Everyone was asking him questions, some of which Harry had difficulty ignoring. Finally Hermione slammed her fork and knife down on the table and marched him out, Ron following suit. At their departure, the Hall quieted noticeably.

At last it was his free period. Briar wandered the halls for a bit before heading up to the common room.

Once he was inside, he went upstairs to the boy's dorm. Instead of opening the first door, he continued on to where the older students' room was. Their door had a hand-made sign on it, reading "Headquarters of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes." Above the sign, someone had printed the word "TEMPORARY" in red ink. Briar knocked on the door.

A dark-skinned boy opened it. "Hey, kid," he said, "what's up?"

"Um... is this Fred and George's room?"

"Yep."

"Can I talk with one of them?"

"Sure thing." The boy turned around and called, "Yo, twins! Some kid's here to see you two."

A moment later, the Weasley twins appeared in the doorway, identical grins spreading across their faces as they saw Briar. "Hey, Briar, come on in," one of them said. It looked like George, but he couldn't be certain.

"By the way, Briar, this is our pal Lee Jordan. He's our chief prank assistant," commented Fred as they led Briar in. "This is the exchange student," he told Lee.

"Yeah, I didn't think I recognized you. Nice meeting you, Briar," Lee said to him.

"Here, you can sit on this chair," George said, shoving a pile of books off of it. He sat on the bed beside him and Fred leaned against the opposite wall. Briar glanced around the room. Theirs was considerably messier; the floor was littered with clothes and papers, and there was a faint smell of olds socks and something... chemically.

"So, what can we do for you?" Fred asked him.

"I had Umbridge today," Briar said, avoiding his question.

The twins seemed to understand him.

"Ah," George said. "Got to experience Ministry tactics firsthand, huh?"

"Yeah... about that." Briar hesitated just a minute before bluntly saying, "I'm going to help you guys. She's just... creepy, y'know? I mean, what with the whole fancy talk about the Ministry and just her attitude towards us... it's weird. I mean, maybe this is what typical Hogwarts teachers are like, but I don't think so. I just don't get that feeling."

Fred nodded. "That's great, Briar. We really appreciate it. Congrats, Briar; welcome to the team!"

Lee walked over. "These two recruiting you already?" he remarked with a grin.

"Better believe it," George said, an evil look in his eye. "Now we can really start planning."

After agreeing to help them, they got Briar to look over their formula for Nosebleed Nougat to help them get an idea of what type of alterations they needed to make. Then the three of them started brainstorming ideas for pranks to pull on Umbridge while Briar checked out some of the supplies the twins had stored in a secret compartment under one of the beds. They had collected many ingredients that they thought would be useful. Briar decided he needed to get a dictionary to look them up in so that he would have a better understanding of what they were, but for the time being he checked them out with his green magic.

Once the bell rang, Briar grabbed his bags and ran outside for his Herbology class. He couldn't wait to start working with plants again.

He got lost in the halls and was ten minutes late for class. By the time he arrived at the greenhouses, there was no one in sight.

Briar decided to go into the nearest greenhouse. The only one he had ever seen in Emelan had been created by Dedicate Crane, who was very protective of the glass building that housed his plants.

Opening the door, he found himself in a small room filled with supplies like shovels and buckets. Through the glass wall he could see his classmates, and so he pushed the next door open and went in.

"Sorry I'm late," he said, glancing around the building. At the front of the room was a woman wearing a brown robe that was streaked with dirt. His class stood around a large table laden with potted plants.

In the corner was a large wooden trellis with a plant that looked similar to ivy growing on it. As soon as Briar had entered the room, the plant had turned towards him. It had untwined itself from the trellis and reached out to him, climbing up his arm until it wrapped a final tendril around his neck and then perched there like a large green snake.

Used to the feeling of plants climbing on him, Briar looked around at the class. TO his surprise, no one seemed to notice that he was there. He wondered why that was until he looked around and realized that everyone was wearing a pair of large, fluffy earmuffs.

The woman at the front – he guessed she was a teacher – was holding her plant at its base. With a sharp tug she pulled it out, and Briar looked at the plant in shock.

The top was normal; it was leafy, almost like a fern, but the roots... they were like nothing he had ever seen. It looked almost as if a small, fat, wrinkled, brown human was growing out of the bottom of the plant. As he watched, the plant opened its mouth and began to scream.

It was the strangest sound; it was high-pitched and shrill but had an odd ring to it, a ring that made him tired, as though he could just fall asleep.

At that moment, everyone finally noticed him.

The teacher stared at him in shock and shouted something that he couldn't hear over the plant's screams; the students were gaping at him, fear and worry on their faces; and then even the plant turned its face towards him.

As soon as the plant saw him, it stopped shrieking. Briar had felt himself growing dizzy from the sound and was glad it had stopped; he still felt as though he could black out any moment. Then the plant opened its mouth once more. This time, it sounded as if it was actually talking; talking in a strange language, a language that sounded like singing.

All of the potted plants on the table rose out of the dirt, shaking it off their heads as a dog shakes off water, and then they also began to sing in the same language. Briar reached into his magic to steady himself and then stretched it out to the plants.

Now he could understand what they were saying. It wasn't words exactly, more like feelings. He could sense surprise at his being there, and contentment with him and his magic. They were happy, and all of them seemed a bit taken aback at that feeling. From what he understood, they weren't happy often.

He managed to convey to them that he was happy too, and then after a brief moment in which the first one seemed to be trying to apologize for nearly causing him to faint, they stopped singing and all of the plants sank back into the soil.

At last, Briar glanced up from his conversation with the plants and met the eyes of the teacher. She seemed to be in shock, although he guessed that was equally from him being there and the plants' singing. The students in the class all stared at him. Most of them looked surprised or amazed, but a few looked almost afraid.

Briar wondered how they saw him now. They had caught a glimpse of his powers. How had he looked, with the vine crawling up his back and the plants singing in joy at his arrival?

"Do you have some sort of magic with plants?" the teacher finally asked.

Briar grinned slightly. "Yeah. I'm what's called a green mage," he said.

The teacher seemed very interested to learn more, and so Briar tried to explain about his magic and gave her examples of what he could do. By the end of the day, he had learned that what happened with the plants was not at all normal.

"The mandrake's cry is fatal," Professor Sprout told him, shaking her head. "I don't know why they started singing, or why you're not dead from their screams. Not," she hastened to add, "that that's a bad thing, but still... it's very puzzling, the way they reacted to you."

By dinner Briar was thoroughly annoyed at all the questions being directed at him. Everyone in his Herbology class wanted to know exactly what he had done that made the mandrakes so excited, and everyone not in the class wanted to hear what had happened from those who were there.

"Now you know how I feel," Harry said under his breath as Briar glared at his meal. "Believe me, you should just ignore them or it'll get worse."

He was relieved when Daja arrived to distract him from what had happened.

_How did your day go?_ she asked the four of them.

_We'll tell you later,_ he replied, his voice still sounding a bit frustrated.

_After dinner, meet us on the fourth floor corridor, by that wall hanging of the knight,_ Sandry told them all. _We'll find an empty classroom and talk in there._

_Sounds good._


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:** Finally, another chapter! ^^ Thanks for all your reviews! I'm hoping for at least 5 by the time I post again... hint hint...

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Chapter 12 – Sandry

Sandry walked off down the hall with her new friend Hermione. She had been very interested to hear all about life back in Emelan and so Sandry was telling her about their adventures. Today, they were continuing a conversation that had been started last night.

"So," Hermione said, "you were a noble in Emelan?"

"Yes; my uncle is the Duke, and my mother was a _cleham_. I've inherited the estate from her."

"And Daja was a trader? From you description, it sounds a lot like a gypsy tribe."

"I guess so," Sandry said thoughtfully. "I mean, they both are nomadic and do a lot of trading, which make them similar to each other, although the Traders have magic and all."

Hermione nodded. "That's what I thought. And what about Tris?"

"Tris is from a merchant family. Her parents sort of... abandoned her." Sandry was reluctant to say any more. It was Tris' secret to tell, not hers.

The other girl looked sympathetic. "You don't have to say anything else; I understand." Easily, she changed the subject. "How about Briar; what's his story?"

Sandry grinned. "He used to live in the streets. He's a bit of a thief and a prankster. Back home, he was always causing trouble. The dedicates were forever getting mad at him, especially Crane."

As they walked down the hall, they soon came up beside Briar, Harry, and Ron. Ron was loudly groaning over their timetable.

"I can't believe this schedule!" Ron was complaining. "Both Snape and that Umbridge woman in the morning! Not to mention Trelawney this afternoon. Honestly, that's just torture."

"Stop exaggerating, Ron," sighed Hermione. "None of them are that bad."

Ron snorted disbelievingly.

"Well," Hermione acknowledged, "maybe Trelawney. But, really, we have no idea how Umbridge teaches, and Snape is, well, just Snape. There's nothing unusual there."

"But getting _all three_? In _one day_?" Ron said in frustration.

"We have to have them sometime. Besides, that means you'll have something to look forward to tomorrow," Hermione pointed out cheerfully.

Sandry saw Ron roll his eyes but he stopped his complaining. Hermione saw too, but she just sighed and kept walking.

They arrived early to their Defence class. Sandry and Hermione sat at desks next to each other. They pulled out their books and then the door opened and their teacher came in.

_Not much fashion sense eh?_ Briar thought to Sandry.

_Who are you to be discussing the delicate art of fashion? _she asked him, somewhat indignant, although she was pleased that even he knew that pink cardigans were way out of style, and that bows were not meant to be placed on the top of your head. The side, maybe, but never the top. That was going too far.

_Hey, at least I know more than her. She looks like a frog. Better yet, a toad. _She could sense him smirking.

Sandry rolled her eyes. _Don't say that out loud._

_I'm not some bleat-brained kid! I know when to keep my trap shut. You, of all people, should know that by now._ Now he was the one sounding offended.

Privately, Sandry thought that he was wrong. Since when had he not spoken out and said the wrong thing at the wrong time? Or just done the wrong thing in the first place, for that matter. And what did he mean that she, of all people, should know that? Sometimes, Briar just made her confused.

"Well, good morning to you!" the woman said brightly. As she spoke, Sandry recognized her from last night – she was Professor Umbridge.

A couple people mumbled 'good morning' in reply.

"Tut, tut," Professor Umbridge said, "that won't do, now, will it? I should like you to please reply, 'Good morning, Professor Umbridge'. Let's try once more. Good morning, class!"

"Good morning, Professor Umbridge!" they chanted back at her.

"There, now, that wasn't too difficult, was it?" she replied sweetly. "Wands away and quills out, please."

Hermione immediately put her wand aside, but she was watching Umbridge with a speculative look, as though waiting for her to do something.

"Now, your teaching in this area has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it?" Umbridge said critically. "Your constant changing in teachers, many of which who have been not approved by the Ministry, has resulted in you all being sadly behind where you are expected to be in your OWL year.

"You will be pleased to know, however, that this year we will be correcting your past lessons and following a carefully structured, theory-centered, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic. Copy the following down, please."

She waved her wand and words appeared on the blackboard behind her. Sandry opened a jar of ink and dipped her quill in. Carefully, she copied down a list of 'Course Aims' that was on the blackboard. For several minutes the room was full of the sound of scratching quills on parchment.

As the last person finished writing, Umbridge asked them, "Do you all have you copies of _Defensive Magical Theory_, by William Slinkhard?"

There was a dull murmur of assent throughout the room.

"I think we will try that again. When I ask a question, I want you all to reply with either 'Yes, Professor Umbridge', or 'No, Professor Umbridge'. So, do you all have your copies?"

"Yes, Professor Umbridge," chanted the class. Several of them looked a bit exasperated at how Umbridge was talking to them.

"Good," she said. "Turn to page five and read Chapter One, 'Basics for Beginners'. There will be no need to talk."

Sandry opened up her book and flipped to page five. It was a difficult chapter to read. There were lots of extremely long, technical-sounding words that she didn't understand.

Finally, she finished the first page and moved on to the second. Despite her goal of gaining high marks she soon found her concentration slipping, and when Daja asked her to help with a Transfiguration task she was glad to enter her mind.

Slipping through easily, she studied the needle in front of her. Gently she twisted one end into a delicate point, and then with the tip of one magical finger she made the tiniest of holes in the large end. Proclaiming it perfect, she returned to her own body. Even with the brief break, Sandry found that she was still unable to focus on the words in front of her, and instead she let her eyes grow unfocused and pretended to read.

After a few minutes she realized that Hermione also wasn't reading, although in her case, neither was she pretending to read. Instead her book was sitting closed on her desk and her hand was up in the air.

Sandry whispered, "What are you doing?" but Hermione shook her head slightly, indicating that she was not about to answer questions, and instead continued staring at Professor Umbridge.

Soon, half the class was watching the two of them. Hermione was staring intently at Umbridge while Umbridge was pointedly ignoring her.

After several minutes of this, Umbridge finally decided to acknowledge Hermione. She walked over to her desk and asked her, "Do you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?"

"Not about the chapter, no."

"Well, we're reading right now, so if you have other questions you shall have to ask them at the end of class," said Umbridge with a smile.

"I've got a query about your course aims," said Hermione.

Frowning, Umbridge replied, "Well, Miss Granger, I think that the course aims are perfectly clear if you read through them carefully."

"Well, I don't," Hermione said bluntly. "There's nothing on there about using defensive spells."

Sandry glanced up at the board. Sure enough, there was nothing about using spells written there.

"Why, Miss Granger," Umbridge said with a little laugh, "I can't imagine any situation arising in my classroom in which you would need to use defensive spells! You aren't surely expecting that you will be attacked during class?"

"We're not going to be using magic?" Ron exclaimed loudly.

"Students raise their hand when they wish to speak in my class, Mr Weasley."

Ron immediately stuck his hand in the air, but Umbridge turned away from him and instead spoke to Hermione, whose hand was up once more.

"Yes, Miss Granger? You have another question?"

"Yes," Hermione replied. "Surely the whole point of Defence Against the Dark Arts is to practise defensive spells?"

Umbridge stared at her. "Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Granger?" she asked her.

"No, but-"

"Then I'm afraid you are not qualified to decide what the whole point of any class is. Wizards much older and cleverer than you have devised our new program of study. You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way-"

"What use is that?" Harry called out. "If we're going to be attacked, it won't be in a-"

"Hand, Mr Potter!" Glancing away from Harry, she turned back to the class, many of which had their hands in the air. "You have a question too, Mr Thomas?"

"Yes," said one of the boys, "I mean, it's like what Harry said, right? If we're going to be attacked, it won't be risk free."

"I repeat," Umbridge said, "are you expecting to be attacked during my class?"

"No, but-"

Professor Umbridge sighed and shook her head sadly. "I do not mean to criticize the way things have been run in this school, but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed – not to mention some _extremely_ dangerous half-breeds."

"If you mean Lupin, he was the best we ever-"

"Hand, Mr Thomas! As I was saying, you have been introduced to spells that are complex and inappropriate for your age. You have been frightened into believing that you are likely to meet Dark attacks every other day-"

"No we haven't, we just-"

"Your hand is not up, Miss Granger!" she cried. Facing the class once more, she continued, "It is my understanding that my predecessor not only performed illegal curses in front of you, he performed them _on _you, which of course should have been an indicator that he was not Ministry-approved! However, in your state of fear, we have made this new program. End of discussion. Go back to your reading." Umbridge started back to her desk when she saw another girl's hand up. Seeming reluctant to answer, she said, "Yes, Miss Patil?"

"Well, isn't there a practical bit in our exams? Aren't we supposed to actually perform the defensive spells?" Parvati Patil asked worriedly.

"As long as you have studied the theory, you should be able to perform the spells," Professor Umbridge said dismissively as she continued to her desk and sat down.

"Without ever practising them?" Parvati said in astonishment. "Are you telling us that we'll be able to do them our first time?"

"I repeat, as long as you have studied your theory-"

"And what good is theory going to be in the real world?" Briar asked Umbridge, his hand up already. "I mean, I'm from someplace different, but even there we actually do what we learn, not run around pretending to know it and then not be able to do it when we need to."

Sandry groaned. _Yeah, yeah, I can reeeaally see that you know when NOT to speak out, _she thought in frustration. He was going to get them in more trouble.

_I figured it was time to put my bit in_. Briar replied, apparently having heard her.

Umbridge gazed towards him, an unreadable expression in her eyes, and then she said softly, "This is school, Mr Moss, not the real world."

"So you're not preparing us for what's out there? Because it's not like we're going be in school forever, you know," he pointed out.

"There is nothing out there that will harm you, Mr Moss," she repeated.

"Oh, really?" Harry said incredulously.

"Who do you think wants to attack children like yourselves?" Umbridge asked him in fake surprise. Sandry thought she looked almost eager for him to respond. _It's like she's provoking him_.

"Hmm... let's think. How about... just maybe... _Lord Voldemort_?" he retorted angrily.

Everyone in the class gasped, a couple students jumping so suddenly at the name that they knocked their books off the desks. Sandry was a bit confused by their reaction to the name. Beside her, Hermione had put a hand over her mouth. "He shouldn't have said that," she whispered, looking slightly afraid.

Umbridge looked coldly at Harry. "Ten points from Griffindor, Mr Potter."

The classroom was dead silent. Everyone was either watching Harry or Umbridge. Most of them looked afraid, like Hermione. Harry was shaking slightly. He looked furious.

Umbridge stood up from her desk. "Let me make one thing clear. You have been told that a certain Dark wizard has returned from the dead. _This is a lie_."

"It's not a lie!" Harry shouted angrily. "I saw him, I fought him!"

"Detention, Mr Potter!" said Umbridge triumphantly. "Five o'clock tonight at my office. I repeat, _this is a lie_. The Ministry guarantees that none of you are in danger from any Dark wizards or witches. And now, you will kindly proceed with your reading." She sat back down and watched them expectantly. At her gaze, everyone immediately turned their attention back to their books.

Harry, however, stood up. Ron whispered softly, "Don't say anything, mate, just leave it," but Harry ignored him.

"So, according to you," he said, his voice shaking with fury, "you think that Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord?"

Sandry frowned. This Voldemort person; was he a murderer? That might explain their shock at hearing the name.

Umbridge said coolly, "His death was a tragic accident." At her words, Hermione gasped again and muttered, "How dare she say that..."

"He was murdered," Harry said, his voice tight. "Voldemort killed him and you know it."

Umbridge stared at him thoughtfully for a moment, then beckoned to him. "Come up here." Harry kicked his chair out of the way and stomped up to her desk, where Umbridge was busily scribbling a note on a roll of pink parchment. When Harry came closer, she rolled it up and tapped it with her wand to seal it.

"Take this to Professor McGonagall," she said grimly.

Harry took it from her and walked out, slamming the door so hard behind him that the floor shook slightly. Umbridge turned back to the class, once again fixing that false smile onto her face.

"Page five, Basics for Beginners," she told them once more, and they all re-opened their books and continued reading. The rest of the class was painfully slow.

Finally, the bell rang and Sandry followed Hermione out to their Potions class. Along the way, Hermione commented to Ron, "Harry really shouldn't have done that; he's so defensive nowadays, he lashes out at the slightest remark."

"Well, can you blame him?" Ron asked her. "After what happened?"

Hermione shook her head sadly but didn't respond.

"What happened?" Sandry asked, looking at them.

Ron hesitated. "I don't think I should tell you..." he said uncomfortably.

"It's Harry's secret," Hermione pointed out. "Just like this morning, remember? You didn't want to tell me about Tris' past. It's their story to tell, when they're ready."

Sandry sighed but agreed with her.

In Potions class, she soon realized why Ron was complaining so much about having Snape as a teacher. He docked them nearly 20 points total in the duration of the class, removing them for everything from having the wrong sized cauldron to not setting their burners to the right level.

The potion was called the Draught of Peace. Sandry did a fairly good job and ended up with dark grey steam rising from the cauldron. Beside her, Hermione had made it perfectly; a shimmering mist of sliver steam engulfed them in a wondrously relaxing scent.

After lunch, Sandry was left alone in the Great Hall. Hermione had left with Ron in search of Harry, who still hadn't returned; Briar was off roaming around somewhere; Tris was heading for the library; and Daja was off with a couple friends. She wondered what to do for her free period.

Wandering outside, Sandry watched a group of teens in green uniforms flying through the air on what looked like mops or maybe brooms. It looked like a lot of fun, that is, until a couple of them spotted her and zoomed over.

"Hey, newbie, get off the field! We're in the middle of practice!" shouted a tall boy with dark brown hair. He swung himself off his broom and hit the ground running.

"Watch out, Montague," yelled a blonde boy some distance behind them, "there's a Bludger...!"

The brown-haired Montague glanced behind him and swore, swinging himself back onto his broom. Sandry caught a glimpse of a heavy-looking metal ball speeding through the air. She screamed and started to run, even though it was hopeless; the Bludger was coming too fast--

--then suddenly Montague was right in front of her on his broom. He grabbed her and pulled her up behind him before doing a fast spin and streaking out to the other side of the field. Behind him, Sandry caught a glimpse of another boy swinging a small bat. It hit the metal Bludger with a loud _crunch_ and sent it flying out in the opposite direction.

Away from the Bludger, Sandry now felt safe enough to look around. They were fairly far off the ground, but thankfully Montague started going back down to the ground.

Once they were close enough, he jumped off and held his broom above the ground so that she could slide off. "Thanks," she said gratefully. "That was so frightening, I was sure I was going to get hit."

"No problem," he said. "Who are you? I don't recognize you."

"I'm Sandry, Sandry fa Toren. I'm one of the exchange students."

"One of the... wait a sec. You're in Gryffindor?"

Sandry nodded. Almost immediately, his expression became colder.

"No wonder," he said. Sandry's eyes narrowed at his tone. "Next time, keep an eye out before running onto the pitch." Without another word, he leaped back on his broom and sped off.

Sandry just stood there a moment, until the blonde kid shouted down, "Didn't you learn already not to stand there? God, you Gryffindorks are thick!" After that, she turned and left. She could hear him laughing behind her.

"Yeah, thanks for saving my life, and moreover, for calling me names," she muttered. Glancing down at herself, she saw that her once-clean dress was now streaked with faint lines of brown dirt. "Why can't boys keep their stuff clean?" she groaned, trying to wipe it off by hand before shoving it away with her magic.

Sandry went back into the school, not really in the mood to hang around outside anymore. She was walking back to the common room when there was a call from behind her.

"Miss Toren!"

Sandry turned around to see Professor McGonagall hurrying towards her.

"Oh, thank goodness I found you! Miss Toren, I'm afraid there's been a bit of confusion with your timetable," she said, slightly out of breath.

Sandry blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I'm afraid that you have been placed in Care of Magical Creatures this afternoon, when actually Gryffindor isn't having their Magical Creatures class until tomorrow. I am terribly sorry, someone must have gotten confused when they were writing out timetables." Professor McGonagall pulled a list out of her cape pocket. "However, I have a list of classes you would be able to go into today, so if you'd like to pick one..."

"Um, thanks," Sandry said, still a bit confused, but she took the list and read it over. There were several options.

"How about... Muggle Studies?"

"Good choice. That is a perfect class for you, since you've just entered our world," Professor McGonagall commented as she took the list back. "The teacher is very knowledgeable in the habits of Muggles."

"What exactly do you learn in it?" she asked curiously.

"You will learn about the Muggle world; all about electricity and cars and things that Muggles use instead of magic." McGonagall pulled out a blank sheet of pare, tapped it with her wand and handed it to Sandry.

"Here is your new timetable, and I'd suggest you get a move on, the bell is going to ring soon." McGonagall smiled at Sandry and then hurried off back down the hall.

Sandry looked at her timetable. _Muggle Studies, full year course, Room 48 (level 1)_. She turned down a side corridor and went down the hall towards where the class was.

She arrived early to class. A woman opened the door for her and introduced herself as Professor Burbage. Sandry sat down and talked with her a bit while she waited for the bell to ring.

It was an interesting class. They were handed out workbooks filled with facts about Muggle life. The class seemed very easy; for the first time that day, Sandry was not assigned homework. For their first hour they answered review questions in their workbooks to see how much they remembered from the previous year, and for the last hour of class they had an open debate on what was better for travel, airplanes or broomsticks.

The bell rang once more, and Sandry picked up her books and went back with her classmates to the Great Hall for dinner. Over a delicious meal of roast beef, rolls and pie, Sandry chatted with Hermione about Muggle Studies, which Hermione had taken in third year.

Looking around at the hall contentedly, Sandry felt Daja's presence in her mind.

_How did your day go?_ her sister asked the four of them.

_We'll tell you later,_ Briar quietly replied, his magical voice sounding a bit frustrated.

_After dinner, meet us on the fourth floor corridor, by that wall hanging of the knight,_ Sandry told them all. The fourth floor was fairly deserted; it might be a good place to hold a meeting with just the four of them. _We'll find an empty classroom and talk in there._

_Sounds good._


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:** Sorry if thi has seemed to be long in the making... I was kind of waiting to see if there'd be any more reviews. I only asked for 5, people! It's not that hard! At least, I didn't think so... *cries*

Anyhoo, virtual chocolates are in the virtual mail for the three of you who did review. You made me very happy. I'm talking about you, Word-Wizard, sockpuppet82, darkmoon99. Thanks!! You guys rock!!

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Chapter 13 – Meetings

After dinner, the four siblings walked out of the hall together. They headed up one of the large staircases, turning off at the fourth floor. As they walked along it, Tris suddenly gasped.

"It's the library!" she said, practically shrieking in excitement as she started to turn into that direction. "Oh, can we go in? Just for a second?"

Briar rolled his eyes. "Tris, you were in the library for your entire free period."

"But I was doing homework then... I didn't really get a lot of time to look around..."

"Hurry up!" Sandry called from her position up ahead. "We're not going to get that much time, we need to be in the dorms in just over an hour so that we don't get in trouble, so save your talking until we find someplace quieter to do it!"

Tris sighed and followed her, although she looked longingly over her shoulder at the library as they passed it.

They continued down the hall, but to Sandry's disappointment the floor remained full of students wandering around before lights-out. Many of them seemed to be heading for the library to complete assignments.

"Let's just go somewhere else," Daja said after they had made a complete circuit of the floor and found no empty rooms.

"Wait, there's a room here," Briar called as he pulled open a heavy door.

The four walked inside to find themselves in a large room. The floor was tiled with stones and carved pillars were positioned along the walls. In the centre of the room was an object of some sort, covered by a heavy cloth. It had an abandoned feel; mist clung to the corners and drifted across the high ceiling.

"I'm not liking this; it doesn't feel right," Tris whispered. "I don't think we're supposed to be here."

Briar silently agreed with her. "Um, never mind then, let's just leave..." The room felt strange somehow; it made his hair stand up at the coldness of it. There was something almost alive about this room; it made them shiver at it. _Perhaps it was magic..._

"Okay... that was different," Sandry said nervously as they swung the door shut behind them.

"Where should we go now?" Daja asked, looking around as though expecting to see a room somewhere.

"Good question," said a cheerful voice behind them.

They whirled around, Briar's hand going to the knife hidden up his sleeve, but no one was there. Uncertainly, he took a step forward, and then jumped back as a figure appeared right in front of him. Sandry shrieked and said something that sounded like, "Ghosts!"

A short man hovered in midair before them. He was dressed in brightly-coloured clothes and was wearing a large floppy hat and an orange bow tie. He stared at them, a mischievous grin creeping across his face.

"Now, now," he said, raising an eyebrow, "going abouts where you shouldn't be, doing what you shouldn't be. That's naughty, naughty that is, oh yes," he continued, seeming delighted by that fact.

"Who are you?" Daja asked him.

"Ah, now, I am no ghost, nor mortal, nor anything but Peeves!"

"Peeves?" Briar asked, trying out the word. "What is that?"

"That is I! And now Peevesy gets to ask you a question. Who are you?"

"We are the exchange students," Sandry said, head in the air, "and we will be on our way now..."

"Oh, ickle Firsties, or mayhaps not Firsties, but it is your first year here! Oh, yes, Peevesy will have lots of fun with you!" And with that, cackling madly, the little man disappeared with a loud pop.

"I'm not liking this," Tris said again.

"Where did he go?"Briar wondered, looking around.

Suddenly, a small object flew out of the air and hit the wall beside him. Staring at it, Briar saw that the thing, whatever it was, had burst at the impact and was now leaving a wet, black spot on the wall.

"They're filled with ink!" he said. A loud cackle interrupted his words and another one flew out of the air and hit Sandry.

She shrieked again, and seeing the splotch of ink on her dress, immediately got mad. "Come out and show yourself!" she cried.

"Never, never," sang the voice. It was hard to tell what direction it was coming from; it echoed in the halls.

"Run!" Tris cried, and the four raced out of the hall with the invisible Peeves chasing them.

They ran up stairs and along corridors in an attempt to lose him, but they could tell he was following them from the loud popping noises behind them. They almost shook him off when Briar led them behind a tapestry and down a hidden staircase, but one of the steps caved in and Sandry got stuck in it. By the time they pulled her out, Peeves had found them again.

They ran upstairs, going higher and higher, until finally they reached the seventh floor.

"Maybe we can hide in the Gryffindor common room," Daja panted as they ran.

Briar shook his head. "I bet he'd be able to get in. Besides," he pointed out, "how can you hide from something that's invisible? We've just got to keep running."

At the end of the hall, they stopped. The corridor in front of them was blocked off. Turning around, their escape was cut off by a rather large inkwell that flew out of the air and almost hit Daja in the face before she leapt aside. They were trapped.

As her siblings darted back and forth, trying to dodge the objects being thrown at them, Tris suddenly realized something. There was a gust of warm air that felt like it was coming out of the wall, which confused her at first until she realized that it was similar to what the secret passage at the train station had felt like. Moving up to the wall, she laid her hands on it and felt along its length.

_Please let there be a room here, _she begged silently. _We need to get away from Peeves. _Concentrating, she barely noticed when a large water-filled balloon hit her in the back.

Suddenly, right in front of her, a doorknob grew out of the wall, and the faint outline of a door appeared. Tri stared blankly at it for a moment before calling to her friends, "Get over here, there's a door!"

Sandry and Daja ran towards her, Briar following behind them as he looked warily around, keeping an eye out for any other objects. Tris grasped the door handle and pulled it open. The four of them tumbled into the room, the door shutting with a satisfyingly solid _thump _behind them. On the other side, they could hear Peeves trying to get through, and his loud curses as the door held.

Briar looked around the room and whistled. "Nice work, Coppercurls."

The room was almost as large as the first one they had gone into. Windows lined the far wall. A large couch sat against one wall, with a small bookshelf and a fireplace on either side of it. There was a table ringed with chairs in the centre of the room.

Wordless, Tris sat down on the couch, confused. How did she get the door to open?

Meanwhile Sandry was furiously using her magic to clean her dress off. "Second time today," she muttered angrily as white chalk power and dark black ink vanished from her clothes. Glancing at Tris, she said, "Stand up for a second, you're all wet." Tris stood up to let her get the water off.

Once they were all cleaned to Sandry's satisfaction, they sat down in the room. Tris and Sandry sat on the couch, Daja on one of the chairs, and Briar sat cross-legged on the floor beside the fireplace.

"So," Sandry said, "now that we have some peace and quiet, let's talk. Daja?"

"As you all know, I was in Transfiguration this morning," the black girl said quietly. Wiping a splatter of ink off her face, she continued, "I don't think we'll be able to do what they ask of us here."

Tris nodded. "We definitely need to find some way to do their spells. I mean, we'll never pass these Owl exams otherwise."

"I wonder if we can use wands?" Sandry said thoughtfully.

"We could try. I doubt it though," Briar said with a yawn.

"So, what did you do today, Briar?" asked Tris. "I'm curious to know what you were up to with the Weasley twins."

Sandry immediately froze, staring at Briar. "What did you do?" she asked him flatly.

Briar shifted slightly at her tone. "It's nothing you need to worry about this instant..." he said vaguely.

"You joined the twins, didn't you?"

"Um... maybe...?"

Sandry glared at him. "I can't believe it! You are going to get into so much trouble! I mean, you're hanging out with _kids, _barely older than you, whose main goal in life is to play tricks on people! You're going to get caught and then where will you be?"

Briar smirked slightly. "Using street talk, are you?" he asked approvingly. "Smart of you. I knew that one day you'd see the values of slang.."

"That is so not the point!" Sandry jumped up and began pacing around the room. "You stupid, idiotic boys! Never cleaning up their messes, never making the right choices, calling people names to their faces, throwing things and acting like three-year-olds!" she fumed.

Briar frowned. _Is she still talking about me? I don't _think_ I fall under all those categories..._

_Better not to say anything,_ Tris said to him._ You don't want to draw attention to yourself, not when she's in the middle of ranting._

Daja got up too. "Sandry, calm down. It's Briar's problem to worry about."

"It's not just his problem!" she cried in frustration. Turning to Briar, she said angrily, "We're siblings, remember? We're supposed to do things together and stick with each other! Not endanger the rest of the group just so you can have fun fooling around!"

"Okay, now that's going a bit too far," Tris muttered. Louder she said, "Breathe, Sandry. You need to take a break from all these rants of yours. Just ignore Briar."

"Yes, please ignore Briar," the boy grumbled under his breath.

Sandry finally listened to Tris and sat back down, as far away as she could from Briar. All three of them could feel her frustration and impatience with him. Briar sighed. Why did she always have to get so mad at him? Pretending he didn't care, he leaned against the couch and closed his eyes, although secretly he felt a little hurt by her annoyance with him.

"So," Daja said, changing the subject effortlessly, "what should we do about wands?"

Tris thought for a moment. "I don't know," she admitted. "Briar's the only one who's gotten to look at them with his magic."

Daja looked straight at Briar. "Briar, you are hereby in charge of figuring out some way to use wands."

"Why me?" he mumbled, looking up at her though half-opened eyes.

"Because you, as Tris just said, is the only one who has seen wands from the inside, not to mention the fact that you have green magic." _And, _she added silently to him, _because then maybe Sandry won't be quite so mad at you. If you can handle doing something responsible, she might believe that you can balance school with your, well, these 'unlawful activities' you've agreed to do._

Briar nodded slightly, understanding what she was saying. "Whatever," he said indifferently. "I'll do it."

Daja smiled at him. _Thanks._

"Now," Tris said, "we should probably be heading off to the common rooms now, or we'll get in trouble. And as we all know, we don't need more trouble than what we've already got."

* * *

Meanwhile, as the four exchange students were talking in the room on the seventh floor, a very different sort of meeting was taking place in the Headmaster's office.

Professor Dumbledore sat at his large, polished wooden desk, reading reports that had been sent to him from various teachers around the school about the first day of classes. Opening one letter, he read it quickly and then sighed. Argus was having difficulties with controlling Peeves again. Well, that wasn't exactly unusual.

Placing the letters aside, he opened a small brown paper bag that was sitting on his desk. Reaching inside, he pulled out a lemon drop and popped it in his mouth. Ah, lemon drops. Though his fondness for Muggle candy surprised some and caused them to think him somewhat unprofessional, he had never seen any reason to drop the habit. Opening a thick book titled _Ancient Magical Law_, he flipped through it absentmindedly. His intention was not to actually read it; he was just waiting for someone to arrive.

Mere moments after he picked up the book, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," Dumbledore called, laying the book aside, and two people walked into his office.

Dumbledore smiled. "Ah, Severus, Minerva, I am glad that you have arrived," he said, standing up and nodding to them.

Snape nodded a silent greeting, and Minerva said, "Why is it that you have called us here, Albus?"

Dumbledore sat back down and said simply, "What do you make of the exchange students?"

"They seem like good students; they pay attention in class."

Peering over his half-moon glasses at them, he stated, "That is not all you are here to say, is it?"

Minerva looked at him and shook her head. "No... there is more." She hesitated briefly before continuing, "I was watching over the Hufflepuff girl, Miss Kisubo, this morning as she attempted to perform a transfiguration, and I was somewhat unsettled by what she did."

Dumbledore said nothing; he just continued to watch her.

"She was trying to change a needle into a matchstick, without a wand of course, and the way she did it... I have never seen anything like it."

Rising from his seat, Dumbledore went over to a large black cabinet. Pulling the doors open, he lifted out a heavy cup-shaped object.

"Perhaps you can show me your memories, through the Pensive," he said as he placed it gently on his desk.

Minerva came over at once. Touching her wand briefly to her head, she pulled it away and let the white, gauze-like strand of memory fall into the Pensive.

Dumbledore took out his own wand and stirred up the liquid light inside. Prodding it, he caused a incorporeal form of the girl Daja Kisubo to rise out of the basin and stand on its surface.

She was frowning in concentration at the needle which sat in front of her, and then she closed her eyes. A brief moment in which nothing happened passed, and then the metal needle in front of her began bubbling, almost as though it was being heated. Through a strange process in which the needle seemed to blow outwards and change shape, it somehow changed the substance it was made of, until a wooden matchstick lay in its place.

Dumbledore studied the ghostly image of Daja thoughtfully as she somehow caused the matchstick to turn itself back into a needle. "She certainly does have a different type of magic," he commented as they watched the matchstick suck into itself hard enough to become a metal substance once more. "Fascinating."

Dumbledore moved quickly to another cabinet, lifting out a delicate silver instrument. He pulled the memory out of the Pensive with his wand and moved it into the instrument before firmly tapping it twice. With a faint humming noise, the instrument sent up faint clouds of grey smoke before an image appeared in midair, the exact same memory that they had just viewed in the Pensive.

As Severus and Minerva came closer, Dumbledore tapped the instrument again and caused the memory to start showing itself again. As the image of Daja once again closed her eyes, he suddenly touched one of the knobs on the machine, causing it to freeze.

Twisting two of the dials at the same time, colour suddenly was brought into the image, and just as quickly it vanished. Now the people and objects were still coloured in varying shades of grey, but there was a faint shine of colour around them.

Picking up a small pointing stick, Dumbledore touched the image with it. "See how around all of the Hogwarts students there is a white glow? That is the glow of our magic. It has taken me a long time to be able to show the colours of magic in a memory, but this one, apparently, is working. Even on you, Minerva, there is that white light around you. It is stronger than that of the students, because you are older and certainly more knowledgeable about magic and its uses."

McGonagall looked carefully at it and nodded. "I see. But what about Miss Kisubo?"

"Ah, that is the mystery!" Dumbledore twisted another silver knob, causing the image to zoom in and focus on her. "Look; underneath her skin is the same magical light, except instead of being a clear white, it is the colour red. I believe that the colour of the light has some indication of the powers she possesses."

"What do you mean by _powers_?" Snape asked.

"Our exchange students use magic very differently, as I believe has already been mentioned. Their magic is purely elemental; it focuses on physical properties in the natural world. I intend to study it further if they allow me to enter their minds; perhaps you would even be able to do that for me, Severus. But for now, on we watch..." He rapped the instrument again with his wand, and the memory continued.

They watched carefully as the memory Daja closed her eyes, and then suddenly Dumbledore froze the image again. "See there?" he asked, pointing to Daja again. "Watch her very carefully."

Severus and Minerva leaned closer, staring intently at the image, and then they saw what Dumbledore had wanted them to see. They saw the red light remaining in Daja's skin, but from within her somewhere, a greenish colour of light was emerging, until it and the red light hovered outside of her body in midair. The red light formed into the shape of hands and began working with the metal.

Dumbledore froze the image again, and Snape and McGonagall turned to stare at him. "What does it mean, Albus?" whispered Minerva.

"From my research, it could mean one of two things. Either the girl is possessed by a spirit of some sort" –at that, both teachers shuddered–"or she has some sort of connection with another magical person, perhaps one of the other exchange students." Once again gazing at the image, he continued, "I believe that we can safely guess that the red light is the light of Daja Kisubo's magic. But as for the green light... the owner of it is unknown."

Silently, Snape tapped the machine with his own wand, and they watched the rest of the memory. At one point, the green light also formed into shapes that vaguely resembled hands, and at another time it disappeared completely and reappeared inside the needle, lighting it up with a gentle green glow, during which the needle somehow turned into a wooden match. Then something else happened that made them all, even Dumbledore, very surprised.

Just before Daja completed her final task, they saw another light come out from under her skin. This one was the colour of molten gold. It did not form into hands like the others, but rather took on a pointy shape that formed the hole of the needle. As the girl turned to face a person outside of the image, the green and golden lights smoothly flowed back beneath her skin, leaving the red light to remain visible.

The three of them sat there in complete silence for several minutes after the memory ended, each thinking their own thoughts and trying to find some sort of explanation. Finally, Severus spoke.

"_Two_ possessions in one person?" he said softly, shaking his head. "It's hard enough with one, let alone two. I doubt it would be possible to survive with that many alternate spirits contained inside your body."

"It might not be a possession," reminded Minerva, her voice sounding slightly shaky. "It could be this magical connection you were talking about, Albus."

Dumbledore glanced up at his name, and then slowly shook his head. "I don't' think so... I didn't think it was possible to have more than one connection with another person's mind?"

"Then what could it be?"

"I do not know."

And with that, the three of them had to accept the fact that these children were nothing like what they had ever seen. It was a mystery, all right. And none of them were too happy with that fact.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:** I know it's seemed like a long time since I last updated. In the past week I've had major writer's block, not to mention upcoming midterms. Studying for those seems to take up all my free time...

Anyway, hope the wait's been worth it! Enjoy!

--

Chapter 14 – Promises

A week had gone past since that first memorable day of living at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The four had gotten a lot more comfortable with the school, although there were some things about the school that still seemed odd to them. The Hogwarts uniforms, for one. And the ghosts, especially Peeves, were still strange enough that Sandry had initially locked her dorm door at night for fear of the ghosts coming in and scaring her. She soon gave it up, though, after seeing a particularly gruesome apparition floating through a solid brick wall. To her huge relief, a conversation with the portrait of the Fat Lady revealed that no ghosts could pass through into the common room who were not allowed – namely, all ghosts except for Nearly Headless Nick. As long as he kept his head on, she was fine with him around.

One evening, Briar returned to the common room to find a large crowd of people gathered around, talking and laughing and drinking from large goblets of Butterbeer.

As soon as he entered the room, Ron ran up to him.

"Guess what, Briar, I did it, I'm in, I'm Keeper!" he said happily. "Angelina decided to let me join the team."

Briar grinned, sincerely happy for him. "That's great, Ron."

"I know, I'm so excited, I-" he started to say. Just then Ron caught sight of someone over Briar's shoulder. "Harry!" he yelled and ran over to him, slopping Butterbeer down the front of his robes in the process. As he told his friend the news, Harry smiled as well and congratulated Ron, but Briar thought that he seemed distracted by something.

A black-haired girl named Angelina, who was captain of the Gryffindor team, strode up to the three boys along with another girl. "Hey, Ron," the blonde girl beside her said, "come with me and try on Oliver's old robes. If they fit you, then we can take off his name and put yours on instead..."

As Ron left, Angelina stared after him critically before turning to Harry. "Look, I know he's your best mate, but he's not fantastic," she said bluntly. "I think that with a bit of practise he'll be all right, though. Just make sure you're there tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah, no problem."

As Angelina left, Harry turned to Briar and said, "So, Briar, you still interested in learning more about Quidditch?"

"Definitely," he said with a grin.

"Well, we've got a practise tomorrow at two, if you want to come. Bring Sandry too if she's interested."

"Great, thanks for the invite!" Briar said enthusiastically. He was looking forward to watching the most popular sport of the wizarding world, although privately he thought that it would take a lot to get Sandry to come near a Quidditch pitch again after what had happened to her last time.

Harry left to go talk to an exhausted-looking Hermione, who was busy making hats in an armchair by the fireplace with Sandry as they discussed knitting techniques. Briar stood around watching the people in the room for a bit before he was soon waved over by the Weasley twins, who taught him how to juggle. Years of knife throwing meant that he was soon flinging empty Butterbeer bottles through the air with as much precision as Lee Jordan. Trying to best Lee at every move he made resulted in a tired yet satisfied Briar finally leaving the party and heading upstairs to bed over three hours later.

The next day, Briar impatiently tapped his fingers through his Charms and Transfiguration classes, neither of which he was able to do with any skill, until at last he came to the class he had been looking forward to all day, Care of Magical Creatures. It had soon become his favourite class, apart from Herbology. Plants always came first for Briar.

"Today," their teacher Professor Grubbly-Plank announced, "we will be starting on some new creatures. Who can tell me what these things are called?"

Briar stared at the pile of twigs sitting in front of her. He could see nothing out of the ordinary about them. In front of him, Hermione's hand shot up. No surprises there. He had quickly learned that Hermione was as smart as Tris, although she had a different personality than his hot-headed sister.

Near to where he stood, a white-blond haired Slytherin named Malfoy did an exaggerated imitation of her jumping up to answer a question. Briar shot him a dirty look. _No one messes with my friends._

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"They're Bowtruckles. They are tree guardians that usually live in wand trees."

"Five points for Gryffindor," said the professor. "Yes, they are Bowtruckles, and as Miss Granger rightly says, they typically live in trees whose wood is of wand quality."

Briar's ears perked up at the mention of wand trees. He barely listened as they discussed the diet of Bowtruckles, although he paid a bit more attention when Professor Grubbly-Plank mentioned their offensive strategy of attacking humans' eyes with their sharp fingers.

"Now, come up to the table and take a Bowtruckle; I have enough for one between every three students. Your assignment is to draw and label a diagram of the Bowtruckle, due for next class."

Ron went up and got a Bowtruckle for the three of them to share. He, Harry, and Briar sat down in a circle in the grass and took turns holding it up so that the others could draw it.

The Bowtruckle was certainly a very strange creature. It looked very similar to a thin little man with a flat face. Its skin, if indeed it was skin, had the colour and texture of bark. It was extremely short, only about five inches high.

Carefully Briar drew a more-or-less accurate diagram of the Bowtruckle. Drawing had never been something he was good at. He got Harry to hold it up for him briefly while he drew its face. It squirmed about in his hands, making small unidentifiable noises; whether from anger or discomfort, it was impossible to tell. Ron held up a wriggling piece of woodlice to the Bowtruckle, and the creature took it from him eagerly.

"Ron, I was talking to Malfoy-"

"_You_ were talking to _Malfoy?!_ What's up with that?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Okay, well, he was talking to me, and I think he knows something about Hagrid."

"Really? Are you sure? Knowing him, he's probably just making stuff up to make you mad or worried or whatever. Don't fall for it, mate," Ron advised.

"Yeah, well, I already am worried, so it's too late for that," Harry said glumly. "I mean, where is he? Why didn't he tell us that he was going?"

"I don't know, mate, maybe he had to leave in a hurry or something," Ron said vaguely, not really paying attention. He frowned and scratched out part of his picture. "Can you try to hold that thing still?"

Harry held the Bowtruckle in a more upright position and stared off into space, clearly thinking about Hagrid, whoever he was. Briar was just about to ask him who they were talking about when he heard what the group of Slytherins next to them were loudly talking about.

"Yes," they clearly heard Malfoy saying, "Father was talking to the Minister just a couple of days ago, and it sounds as though the Ministry's really determined to crack down on sub-standard teaching in this place. So even if that overgrown moron does show up again, he'll probably be sent packing straightaway..."

Harry's face darkened at the boy's words, and his hand tightened around the Bowtruckle.

"Um, Harry," Briar started to say, but it was too late.

There was a snapping noise and a shout of pain from Harry. He dropped the Bowtruckle and stared at his hand, which was dripping with blood from two deep cuts. At the sight of the Bowtruckle running away through the trees and Harry's bleeding hand, the Slytherins started laughing.

"There goes our homework," Ron said, staring after the Bowtruckle.

"Sorry," Harry grunted as he grabbed a handkerchief and began awkwardly tying it around his hand.

Briar jumped up. He glanced around and saw that the teacher's back was turned. "I'll go get it," he said hastily, running after the Bowtruckle. "Make up some excuse for me leaving, all right?"

He made sure to grab a handful of woodlice from the empty table as he passed it. Almost as soon as he entered the forest, he heard Sandry in his head.

_What are you doing?!_

_This is my only chance, _he told her before shutting her out. Looking around the silent forest, he followed the Bowtruckle.

Ever since the mention of wand trees, Briar had been planning to 'accidentally' release one of the Bowtruckles so that he could follow it to wherever it lived. However, Harry had provided him with the perfect excuse to leave. He felt only slightly guilty about his relief when the Bowtruckle slashed the other boy's hand in its bid for freedom. Besides, another minute sitting next to the Slytherins would have likely caused him to punch the Malfoy kid in the face. He couldn't stand the way he acted.

He continued running through the forest. Despite its size, the Bowtruckle was surprisingly fast. Briar had to pay a lot of attention to make sure that he didn't lose it amongst the trees, sticks and other plants that looked exactly like it. It made sense, now, why the Bowtruckle looked like a twig. Obviously, it was the perfect camouflage for living in the forest.

After several minutes, the creature slowed down and then crawled up the side of a tree and into a large hole in the side. Briar waited a moment, and then he stepped out of the bushes and into a small clearing.

He could feel the power emanating from the four massive trees that stood in the circle. Reaching into his power, he could feel the strongest green lights he had ever seen glowing within them. They were incredibly old, and felt to him as though they had lived for centuries and had become extremely intelligent. They reminded him of his _shakkan_, except larger and possibly even older.

Briar walked over to the first tree and gently laid his hand on its trunk. It was a large hawthorn tree, in full bloom, with green leafy branches. Beside it was an alder tree, covered in shiny round leaves; a tall, thin birch tree with white bark; and a sturdy rowan tree, filled with large red berries.

Briar gazed around the ring of trees. They were perfect. He could tell that they would make good wands.

He pulled the woodlice out of his pocket and placed them into a pile in the centre of the four trees, just in case there were any Bowtruckles nearby. Then he walked over to the rowan tree and placed his hand on its trunk. Very carefully, he entered into his magic, and with it, reached out into the tree itself. He had barely made out his request when a branch moved out and released a single, long twig into his other hand.

Briar continued around the circle. Each tree was surprisingly cooperative, although he suspected that it was due not only to his magic but to their years of experience. In the end, he had collected four sticks, one from each tree.

He was tempted to stay in the circle, but knew from the darkening sky that he didn't have time, and so he left the magical trees and returned to where he had left Ron and Harry.

Their class was long gone, and so instead he ran up to the castle and hid the sticks in the secret drawer he had carved into the base of his trunk. Then he glanced at the clock, and realizing that it was half past two, ran outside to the Quidditch pitch- but not before grabbing a tiny pouch from off of his end table.

It was time, he figured, to keep another promise.

When Briar got out to the pitch, he could tell that things weren't going too well. Ron was all over the place, although seeing as he was supposed to be in front of the goalposts, that wasn't exactly a good thing. Across the field, he could make out a group of people sitting in the stands. As he walked closer he heard jeers and taunts, and knew that they were Slytherins. _Idiot _kaqs_, _he thought irritably, stealing one of Daja's native Trader words.

Approaching the court, he was surprised to see the players dismounting from their brooms. He picked up his pace and called out, "What's wrong?"

Harry glanced up. "Oh, hey Briar," he said. "Angelina's calling off practice for today," he continued, jerking a thumb towards where the black girl stood. "Katie got a really bad nosebleed."

"Where is she?"

He ran in the direction Harry pointed him in, and soon caught up to Fred and George, who were supporting a very pale Katie between them.

"On, um, hey kid, listen, we're a bit busy here..." Fred started to say, looking embarrassed.

"Did you give her the Nosebleed Nougat?" Briar cut in.

"No, we gave her the antidote," George corrected. "At least, we _think_ it was the antidote."

"She – erm – might have swallowed a Blood Blisterpod by mistake," Fred added.

Briar shook his head. "I told you guys I wasn't quite finished with the remedy yet," he said, frowning.

"Sorry, kid," George said apologetically.

Briar sighed heavily. "Ah well. Guess I'll have to give her this instead." With a flourish, he pulled the drawstring bag out of his pocket.

The twins stared at it blankly. "What's that?" they asked in unison. Briar grinned.

"The finished pills. I added the final ingredients this morning, but I couldn't find you two to give them to you." He pulled out a single purple pill and broke it in half, offering one end of it to Katie.

"Will this make me sicker?" she asked sceptically, her voice thick from her nosebleed.

"Nope. This'll fix it up."

The blond girl took the pill from him and swallowed it. Her nosebleed cleared up noticeably.

"Hey, thanks!" she said happily, wiping the blood off her face with her robes. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some unfinished business to take care of."

With that, she turned to Fred and George, both of whom had sheepish grins on their faces.

"Guys, it's high time for you two to learn a lesson about paying attention to what exactly it is you're feeding me," she said, stepping towards them menacingly. They leaped on their brooms and flew off, a very angry Katie chasing after them.

From down the pitch, Angelina watched in amazement as the previously extremely sick girl flew through the air. "Practise's back on!" she yelled, and Briar settled down on the grass to watch the game.


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: Do I wish I owned HP and the Circle of Magic? Undoubtedly. Does it change anything? Nope, still not mine.

--

Chapter 15

Sandry yawned and slowly pulled herself out of bed. Realizing what time it was, she hastily tied her hair back into a bun. She had slept late; there would be no time to wash her hair today. To make up for it, she wore her favourite blue dress. Like always, around her neck was her mage's pendent. After the other girls in her dorm questioning her about her mage's pendent, she had decided to hide it as much as possible. It was uncomfortable to have out in the open. Wiht her powers, she had adjusted the neckline of her dress, and now was able to hide the pendent underneath.

She hurriedly finished getting ready and ran downstairs to the Great Hall. She sat down just in time, as the plates began to fill with food.

Owls flew through the rafters and entered the Hall, dropping envelopes and packages at the seats of many of the students. Sandry watched the owls. They were such amazing birds, and were surprisingly friendly.

A large tawny owl dropped the daily newspaper at Hermione's seat beside her. She unrolled the paper and immediately gasped.

"Look at this!" she cried, waving the front page at Harry and Ron, who were sitting across from them. Sandry read over her shoulder as Hermione read the article aloud:

_Ministry Seeks Educational Reform_

_Dolores Umbridge Appointed First Ever High Inquisitor_

_In a surprise move last night, the Ministry of Magic passed new legislation giving itself an unprecedented level of control at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

"_The Minister has been growing uneasy about goings-on at Hogwarts for some time," said Junior Assistant to the Minister, Percy Weasley. "He is not responding to concerns voiced by anxious parents, who feel the school may be moving in a direction they do not approve of._

"Percy Weasley?" said Briar from beside her, glancing at Ron.

Ron's ears were steadily growing redder as he methodically shredded up his napkin. "Yeah," he growled. "He's my stupid, family-disowning brother."

"Shhh!" hissed Hermione as she continued reading.

_This is not the first time in recent weeks that the Minister Cornelius Fudge has used new laws to effect improvements at Hogwarts. As recently as August 30__th__, Educational Degree number 22 was passed, to ensure that in the event of the current Headmaster being unable to provide a candidate for a teaching post, the Ministry should select an appropriate person._

"_That's how Dolores Umbridge came to be appointed to the teaching staff at Hogwarts," said Weasley last night. "Dumbledore couldn't find anyone so we put in Umbridge, and of course she's been an immediate success, totally revolutionising the teaching of Defence Against the Dark Arts, and providing the Minister with the inside scoop of what's really happening at Hogwarts."_

"She's been a what?!" Harry practically shouted.

"Wait, there's more," Hermione said grimly.

_It is this last function that the Ministry has now formalised with the passing of Educational Degree number 23, which creates the post of Hogwarts High Inquisitor._

"_This is an exciting new phase in the Minister's plan to get to grips with what some are calling the falling standards at Hogwarts," continued Weasley. "The Inquisitor will have the power to inspect her fellow educators and make sure that they are coming up to scratch. Professor Umbridge has been offered the position and we are delighted to say that she has accepted."_

_The Ministry's new moves have received enthusiastic support from parents of students at Hogwarts._

"_I feel much easier in my mind now that I know Dumbledore is being subjected to fair and objective evaluation," said Mr Lucius Malfoy, speaking from his Wiltshire mansion last night. "Many of us with our children's best interests at heart have been concerned about some of Dumbledore's decisions over the years and are glad to know that the Ministry is keeping an eye on the situation."_

_Among these eccentric decisions are undoubtedly the controversial staff appointments previously described in this newspaper, which have included the employment of werewolf Remus Lupin; half-giant Rubeus Hagrid; and delusional ex-Auror Mad-Eye Moody._

_Rumours abound, of course, that Albus Dumbledore, once Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, is no longer up to the task of managing the prestigious school of Hogwarts._

"_I think that the appointment of High Inquisitor is a first step towards ensuring that Hogwarts has a headmaster in whom we can all repose our confidence," said a Ministry insider last night._

_Meanwhile, Wizengamot elders Griselda Marchbanks and Tiberius Ogden have resigned in protest at the introduction of the post of Inquisitor to Hogwarts._

"_Hogwarts is a school, not an outpost of Cornelius Fudge's office," said Madam Marchbanks. "This is a further, disgusting attempt to discredit Albus Dumbledore."_

_(For a full account of Madam Marchbanks' alleged links to subversive goblin groups, turn to page seventeen.)_

Hermione finished reading and looked up at them.

"So now we know how we ended up with Umbridge! Fudge passed this 'Educational Degree' and forced her on us! And not he's given her the power to inspect other teachers!" Hermione looked extremely frustrated. "I can't believe this; it's _outrageous_!"

"I know it is," Harry said, glancing down at his hands. Briar nodded in agreement.

However, Sandry was surprised to notice a grin spreading across Ron's face.

"What?" she asked him.

"Oh, I can't wait to see McGonagall inspected," Ron said happily. "Umbridge won't know what's hit her."

"Well, come on," Hermione said, jumping up. "we'd better get going, we've got Defence first and we shouldn't be late..."

Defence Against the Dark Arts had taken a strangely repetitive turn over the past few days. They usually started off with reading or taking notes, but by the end of the class, someone had lost their temper at what Umbridge was telling them. Today was no different.

Umbridge had just given them a brief lecture on the apparent unsuitability of previous Defence teachers. Partway through this speech, she had mentioned that somebody named Quirrell had been the only Ministry-approved teacher at the school. At this point, Harry had stood up and told her that "Sure, Quirrell was a great teacher; there was only the minor drawback of him having Voldemort sticking out the back of his head." After this, Umbridge had given Harry another week's worth of detentions.

During their Potions lesson, Snape handed back their moonstone essays from the previous class. "I have marked your essays exactly the way that it will be marked in your OWLs. This should give you an idea of what you can expect in the examinations," he informed them with the slightest of smirks as he handed the papers out.

"The general standard of this homework was abysmal. Most of you would have failed, had this been your examination. I expect to see much more effort in your future assignments, or I will have to start handing out detentions for those dunces who get a D."

Sandry took her assignment from him and flipped it over nervously. She was relieved to see a large black A handwritten in the top corner. Beside her, Hermione sighed with relief and showed her an EE.

"How does the grading system work?" Sandry whispered to her friend as Snape set them to work brewing a Strengthening Solution.

"Outstanding is the highest," Hermione told her. She sighed and remarked, "I didn't really expect to get the top grade, not if he's marking to OWL standard now... anyways, after O, there's Exceeds Expectations and Acceptable, which is the last passing grade."

"What's a D?" she asked curiously, remembering Snape's comment.

"Dreadful. It's the lowest grade."

Sandry continued reading, but curiously she watched Briar out of the corner of her eyes. He must have seen her and realized what she wanted, because he sighed and flashed his paper at her. She could make out a spiky D scrawled at the top. She shook her head at him and turned back to her cauldron.

After the bell, the five of them made their way to the Great Hall for lunch. Hermione was nervously reciting the varieties of venom antidotes out loud, trying to remember them for their next essay. Ron listened to her for a moment before pulling out a quill and scrap of parchment and hastily scribbling down what she was listing off.

"What?" he defended himself when Harry and Briar laughed at him. "It's hard to remember, and it's not like I have enough free time to reread the textbook!"

Sandry laughed along; Ron was so funny sometimes. She caught up with Briar and asked him, "So, care to explain that mark you received?"

"Nope," he said cheerfully, swinging a leg over the bench and sitting down.

"I hope you're putting effort into your work, Briar."

"Oh, I am. It's not my fault that their uses of moonstones are different than what I've heard. Or that I have a bad memory. Besides, my mind's been on other things lately."

"Oh?" Hermione asked curiously. "What sorts of things?"

Briar shrugged casually. "Oh, you know, just the usual stuff. Thinking about home, wondering how they're doing."

Hermione nodded. "That makes sense," she said. "I expect it's hard for you, being so far away."

"Yeah." Briar filled his plate with food and then said to Sandry, _Meet me after dinner in the disappearing room. I've got something to show you girls._

Sandry nodded slightly. _Understood._ She would have said more, but at that moment they were interrupted by Angelina Johnson storming over to where the five of them were sitting.

"How can you _do_ this to me?" she shouted as she drew nearer. "I had to work on scheduling practices for nearly _half_ the day, trying to make it so that we _all_ can be there, and you have to go blow it?! You need to get your tongue in check, Potter!" With her standing there screaming at Harry, hands on her hips and the most furious expression on her face, Sandry found that despite being able to communicate silently it was still very hard to keep up a conversation. Seeing McGonagall heading towards them, Sandry and Hermione hurriedly left the table. Harry looked like he wanted to do the same, but he was already trapped by Angelina. Briar thought about leaving for a moment before shrugging and remaining in his seat to finish eating. (A/N: nothing stops Briar from finishing a meal...)

Sandry decided to go down to the library to work on her homework. She read through her Potions textbook and then began writing her essay on venom antidotes. It was boring work, not like researching Moonstones. Despite what Briar said, that had been fun. It took her the whole free period to collect enough information for writing the twelve-inch essay.

Afterwards she went downstairs to Muggle Studies. She was enjoying herself immensely in this class. Professor Burbage was incredibly kind to her and had assigned her a very easy task. Today, she would be performing an oral report to her classmates on Emelan and the people that lived there.

When she arrived, she was somewhat surprised to see Professor Umbridge in the room. She hadn't thought that Umbridge would be inspecting teachers right away.

Professor Burbage gestured for Sandry to take a seat, and confused, she did so. Umbridge stayed in their class for the first hour, asking their teacher questions while the students labelled diagrams of car motors.

"How long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?' she asked. Burbage thought for a moment before answering.

"I've been working here, let's see, nearly five years now."

"What is your current impression of the school?"

"Oh, it's a splendid facility. The staff here are wonderful, and Dumbledore's done amazing things with the school," she said cheerfully.

Umbridge nodded and wrote something down on her piece of paper. She then walked around the room and asked various students questions about the class. Though she never came to Sandry, she listened to what Umbridge was saying. Most of the questions were pretty straightforward. She asked them about how the class was taught to them, if they were able to understand what the teacher talked about, if they got good marks; fairly simple questions.

"All right," Umbridge said as she walked towards the door. "You will get the results of your inspection in three days time."

"Sounds good!" Professor Burbage said, thanking her. She closed the door and then turned to the class.

"All right then, Sandry, let's hear your presentation!"

Sandry stood up and went to the front of the class. She thought she understood why Professor Burbage had stopped her from presenting earlier. Umbridge had obviously wanted to get a chance to talk to the students – that would have been difficult if she was presenting at the same time. In a way, she was relieved. For some reason, Umbridge made her really nervous.

"Where I come from, there is no such thing as Muggles," she said, glancing down at her clasped hands as she tried to remember how she had practiced it. "Some people have magic and some people don't, but they all know about each other. There's no hiding or secrets; we all live in the same world."

The class listened attentively; they were all curious to hear more about her life. Sandry hadn't known any of them when she had first entered the class, and none of them had known her, either. This was mainly because there were no other Gryffindors in Muggle Studies. Many of the students at Hogwarts seemed to think it was a soft option, and they had chosen to go into different classes instead.

The evening meal passed by quickly. To her surprise, Briar was not in the Great Hall when she went down. Briefly she wondered what he was up to, and then she remembered his message to her earlier. _Meet me after dinner in the disappearing room..._ she wondered what he had to show them.

After dinner, she grabbed Daja and Tris and led them upstairs before the rest of their House members could see them. "Briar wants to see us in the enchanted room," she explained quickly as the three of them walked upstairs. They needed no further explanation and continued along the hallways in silence.

As the three girls walked into the magical room, they saw Briar standing in the middle beside a small round table. The room had changed; instead of the large, airy room they had been meeting in for the past week, it now was smaller and completely empty apart from four spindly chairs and the single table in the center. There were no windows; instead, candles were positioned along the walls, giving the room a mysterious look.

Briar gestured towards the table, upon which was placed four pieces of wood. "These will be our wands," he said. "I got them out of the Forest yesterday, during Care of Magical Creatures."

"So that was what you were doing when you left class early!" Sandry exclaimed. She was amazed that he had managed to find wood for their wands so fast.

He winked at her. "I told you that I had to take the opportunity."

"Are you sure they'll work?" Tris asked him curiously, reaching out to touch one of the pieces.

Briar snorted. "Am I sure?" he said incredulously. "You wouldn't believe the strength of the magic I felt in those four old trees. I bet there was more magic in that little corner of the forest than in this whole school. Okay, maybe that's a slight exaggeration, but it was pretty intense. I think these will work out fine." He motioned towards the table. "Go on, take one."

Tris picked up one of the sticks. It was a reddish - brown colour. "What type of wood is this?" she asked Briar.

"Alder."

Daja stepped up beside them and looked the branches over before reaching out to take a dark brown one.

"Hawthorn," Briar told her.

Sandry came up next. There were two pieces left; one a light brown and the other very pale, almost white. She closed her hand around it. "This is from a birch tree," she said confidently, recognizing it.

Briar nodded, and then he took the last one. "Rowan," he confirmed, looking it over.

The four of them stood there for a moment, just staring at the sticks.

"So," Daja finally said, "what are we supposed to do with these?"

"To be honest I'm not entirely certain," Briar confessed. "I mean, their wizard wands are made to be used with a completely different type of magic; they've filled the core of their wands with things from plants and animals. You know, unicorn hair, phoenix feather, that kind of thing. But our magic, obviously, is really different from theirs, so I don't know that those kinds of items would work with our powers."

Tris frowned thoughtfully. "Perhaps we can use our own magic to line the core of the wand," she suggested as she twirled the alder stick between her fingers.

"Hey, that's a good idea," Briar said.

Sandry sat down on a woollen rug in the corner. "Come on," she said, patting the place beside her. Her siblings came over to sit down in a circle with her.

Counting under their breath, they easily fell into the meditative pattern they had learned from Niko. _Breathe in for seven counts, hold for seven counts, breathe out for seven counts..._

Submerged in the core of her powers, Sandry reached out a magical hand and stretched a thin strand of her magic into the wand that sat in her lap. It took her several tries to get it right, but finally she had coated the hollow centre of the wand. Twisting the magic at the end like a thread, she tied it off and broke her connection with it before finally opening her real eyes.

She saw that Briar was already finished with his wand; he was watching the three of them as he waited for them to finish. Tris was scowling slightly as she struggled with her powers, so much more rebellious and free than the others. Daja had her Trader face on; it was impossible to tell how she was doing.

Several minutes passed, and finally the two of them opened their eyes as well.

"Did it work?" Daja asked them.

Sandry shrugged. "Guess we'll find out," she said, staring at the wand in her hand. It felt right, whole, somehow; for a moment, she wondered if this was how Briar felt his _shakkan_. It felt _alive_.

Tris gave her wand an experimental wave. "Nothing to lose," she muttered, almost to herself, and then louder she cried, "_Accio_!" and jabbed her wand towards a ceramic mug sitting on the table.

For a moment nothing happened, and Tris looked a bit disappointed; but then she started with surprise as the mug floated through the air and came to rest in her hand.

They gaped at the mug for a second, and then Briar looked around the circle, a slow grin spreading across his face.

"Yes!" he shouted, punching a fist in the air. Jubilantly, he flicked his wand at the chairs, and with the incantation "_Wingardium Leviosa_!" he caused the chairs to fly into the air and dance around the room.

Even serious Daja joined in on the fun as they capered around the room like eager children, casting spells on anything they could find, including themselves. It was nearly an hour later before they finally settled down and fixed the room back up; putting furniture back where it belonged, fixing the rug which had caught on fire from a wayward spell hitting one of the candles, and returning Briar's hair from bright purple to its more normal dark brown.

"Well," Sandry said finally, catching her breath from laughing, "that was so much fun, I can see why everyone's so mad at Umbridge for not letting them use magic." She lightly tapped a broken chair leg and murmured, "_Reparo_." The feeling of using magic with a wand was so weird; she could feel her powers being pulled out of her through the wand, and somehow being amplified along the way.

Once the room was straightened up as it had been originally, they opened the door and stepped out into the hallway... to total darkness.

"How long did we stay in there?' whispered Tris as she gently closed the door and it vanished from sight back into the wall.

"Too long," was Daja's answer.

Briar waved his wand and whispered, "_Lumos_." The tip of his wand lit up brightly, showing them the empty corridor.

Hastily the four of them crept along the halls, bidding good night to each other at the top of one of the main stairwells that Tris and Daja went down. Passing the stairs, Briar and Sandry continued on alone to Griffindor tower.

"Mimbulus Mimbletonia," Sandry murmured as they came close to the door. The portrait of the Fat Lady stirred slightly and she sat up.

"What are you two doing out here so late?" she asked in surprise.

"It doesn't matter; Mimbulus Mimbletonia," Briar repeated testily as he glanced around them. He didn't want to be caught out in the halls by one of the teachers.

"Fine, go in then, but don't wake me up again!" she sniffed as the portrait swung forward.

They entered the Common Room and immediately heard the sound of an argument going on. Coming closer, they saw Hermione, Ron and Harry standing by the fire.

"You don't know what it's like!" Harry was shouting. With one hand he was angrily gesturing; the other hung limply by his side, dripping blood from several deep cuts. "You've never had to face _him_, have you? You think it's just a bunch of memorizing spells and throwing them at him, like you're in class or something? The whole time you know there's nothing between you and dying except your own – your own brain or guts or whatever – like you can think straight when you know you're about a nanosecond from begin tortured or killed – they've never taught us in our classes, what it's like to deal with things like that – and you two just sit here acting like I'm a clever little boy to be standing here alive, like Diggory was stupid, like he messed up – you don't get it, that could just as easily have been me, it would have been if Voldemort hadn't needed me-"

"We weren't saying anything like that, mate," Ron said, looking aghast. "We weren't having a go at Diggory, we didn't – you've got the wrong end of the-"

He turned helplessly to Hermione, who immediately said timidly, "Harry, don't' you see? This... this is exactly why we need you... we need to know what it's really like... facing him... facing V-V-Voldemort..."

Harry visibly calmed down. Breathing hard, he sunk down into one of the chairs. He glanced down at his hands, wincing as he did so.

"Oh..." Ron said, turning towards them, "um, hey, Briar, Sandry."

"What's up?" Briar asked quietly, walking towards them as Sandry followed.

"Well, we've been considering the possibility of starting a Defence club, since Umbridge is clearly incapable of teaching us," Hermione said slowly. "I was thinking, maybe Harry could teach us, so... we were asking him to think about it." She shot Harry a meaningful glance at those last words.

"Please, think about it," she said again, her voice quieter. Harry nodded wearily.

"Well, I'm off to bed," she said in a more natural voice. "Sandry?"

The two of them headed upstairs to the common room. As they turned the corner, Sandry saw Briar talking with the two boys. Inspecting Harry's hand, she saw him pull out a small bottle from his pocket and open it.

Sighing, she got ready for bed, and as she lay beneath the warm blankets, she studied the birch wand that was held in her hand.

Smiling at the feel of the magic inside, she found it easy to fall asleep.

--

A/N: I won't be able to update for a while... I'm going sailing in BC (the west coast of Canada) which means that I'll be living on a sailboat for a week, which means no internet and to save luggage space I'm not bringing my computer.. I'll try to update after I get back, can't guarantee when that'll be exactly..

And guess what? It's my birthday tomorrow!! Please be nice to me and review :D Everyone who has so far, thanks! Your feedback and advice is really helpful!

~lyrannae


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16 - Dumbledore's Army

Recently, Briar had vaguely mentioned to Tris about a conversation he had had with Harry and Ron. From talking to Hermione during their Ancient Runes class, she understood that they were trying to get Harry to help them organize a defence club of sorts. Tris wasn't certain how to react to this. in the past she had always been one to abide by the rules, and had tried to made sure that her siblings did the same. But she had been surprisingly dissatisfied by Umbridge's teaching. Now that she was able to use a wand, she wanted to make sure that she would be able to perform, the spells that they often took notes on. The woman's repetitive Wands Away Please was starting to get on her nerves. At the mere sight of her false smile, Tri shad to concentrate very hard in order to restraint her easily-triggered powers, which were often affected by her mood.

So it was to her surprise when the even stricter Hermione came up to her a week later with a hastily whispered invitation to come to the first DA club meeting.

"Invite anyone else that you can trust to keep it a secret," she told her, looking nervously around as she spoke. "We need to be really cautious with this; we can't let any of the teachers know, especially Umbridge."

Tris agreed to come and passed the word along to Luna and Cho. She even mentioned it to Padma Patil, who promised to tell her twin sister Parvati in Griffindor.

When Saturday morning came, Tris headed down after breakfast to Hogsmeade. While wandering around the streets, she discovered a small store called Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop. At it, she bought herself a new pheasant-feather quill to replace the now-shabby one she had purchased in Diagon Alley. Finally, she made her way back down the streets to a small pub that the meeting was supposed to take place in.

The Hog's Head Inn did not look at all appealing from the outside. A sign hanging above the door showed a picture of the severed head of a wild boar, leaking blood onto the white tablecloth around it. It wasn't exactly the type of image that Tris could imagine a group of students coming to. Nonetheless, she hesitantly opened the door and walked inside.

Immediately she saw Harry, Ron and Hermione sitting at a table in the corner. They looked just as nervous as she did in the dark, dingy room, although Ron was casting curious glances towards the old barkeeper who was standing behind the counter wiping out a glass with a rag so filthy, it looked like it was making the glass dirtier with every stroke.

After giving a slight wave and smile in their direction, Tris walked up to the bar and asked the man for a Butterbeer. He reached below the counter and pulled out a very dusty bottle, which he slammed on the bar.

"Two Sickles," he grunted. Tris reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out two of the silver coins, handing them to the man before taking the bottle and retreating to the farthest corner of the room where the three Gryffindors were sitting.

"You know what?' Ron was saying as she approached. "We could order anything we like in here. I bet that bloke would sell us anything, he wouldn't care. I've always wanted to try Firewhiskey-"

"You - are - a - _prefect_," snarled Hermione. She glanced up at Tris and, beaming, pulled out a chair. "You came! Excellent, I was wondering where everyone was," she said in a much brighter tone than how she had spoken to Ron. Behind Hermione's back, Tris saw the enthusiastic smile on Ron's face fade as Harry smirked slightly.

"So, no one's here yet?" Tris confirmed, taking a seat. She popped open the lid of her Butterbeer and, reaching into her bag, pulled out one of her own, much cleaner, glasses. She felt pretty glad that she had listened to the warning Hermione had passed along from Professor Flitwick about bringing your own cups to drink in.

"Yeah," Hermione replied as she watched her pour out the drink into the glass she had brought. "The three of us have been waiting a few minutes." She checked her watch and looked anxiously towards the door. "I told them to be here about now and I'm fairly sure they all know where it is - oh, look, this might be them now."

The wooden door swung open, briefly letting a welcome beam of sunlight into the dark room, before it was blocked by the incoming crowd of people.

Tris recognized very few of them. She saw Cho Chang and the Patil twins, and then her dreamy friend Luna Lovegood, who as usual appeared to have wandered into the room by accident. Lastly came Briar with his friends Fred and George and Lee Jordan, all four of them carrying large paper bags filled with merchandise from Zonko's joke shop. Apart from them and her two sisters, there was no one she knew well enough to know the name of.

Tris counted them as they walked in the door. In the end, she had come up with about twenty-eight people, not including the four of them already sitting inside.

"A couple of people?" Harry said hoarsely to Hermione. "_A couple of people?_"

"It's barely over thirty people, and that's including yourself," Tris informed him. "That's the usual size for a class."

Harry groaned and thumped his head on the table. Tris could hear him mumbling something that sounded like, "Why did I agree to this again?"

Briar winked at her as he walked in. "Hey there, Coppercurls. Didn't expect to see you here," he said as he placed his bags down on the floor underneath the table.

Tris rolled her eyes. "I, on the other hand, completely expected to see you here," she replied. "Trouble draws you to it like a light attracts moth. I believe that it will be a fatal attraction on your part."

"What, being burnt to a crisp?" was his retort. "Sorry, Sis, but somehow I don't think that's likely to happen, what with you being willing to call up a storm to save me." He grinned at her and then sauntered over to the counter with the Weasley twins.

The barman had frozen in the act of attempting to polish his glasses. He looked shocked to see so many people in his typically slow-paced bar.

"Hey," said Fred to him, "could we have... twenty-eight Butterbeers, please?"

The man glared at him for a moment, then throwing down his rag irritably as though he had been interrupted in doing something important, he reached down and began passing out dusty Butterbeers.

"Cheers," said George, handing them out to everyone. "Cough up, people, I don't have enough gold for all of this."

Harry was watching the whole process numbly. He turned to Hermione and said in a low voice, "What have you been telling people? What are they expecting?"

"I've told you, they just want to head what you've got to say," she said in a soothing tone, but at Harry's furious glance, she hastily added, "you don't have to do anything yet, I'll speak to them first."

"Hi Harry!" a brown haired boy said excitedly as he took the seat opposite them at their table.

"Hey, Neville," Harry said vaguely, staring towards Cho, who had just sat down at a seat beside Ron.

Sandry came up beside Tris just then. "I'm so happy you decided to come!" she cried, giving her sister a hug. "Honestly, I still can't believe Briar talked us all into this."

Daja sat down beside her and added with a laugh, "He has a way with talking. If he'd been in a caravan, he could have persuaded the stingiest person to buy an old boot for the cost of two silver nobles, and still think make them think that they had gotten a bargain for it."

Briar conveniently walked up to them just then and, grinning, said, "You would have wished for me to be on your side, Daj', instead of any other Trader group, right?"

"Without a doubt, brother. Your persuasive skills may have come in handy with our tougher sales."

Sandry laughed. "What persuasive skills? With street rats, it's either listen to them or end up dead in a back alley."

"Not a back alley," Briar disagreed. "We'd string up the body somewhere visible, as a warning to others."

"What a pleasant image," Tris muttered sarcastically. At a whisper from Hermione, she added, "Shut up, Briar, and pay attention for a bit. We're trying to organize an undercover revolt here."

Hermione smiled slightly at her description of the club and then turned to the rest of the group. Every eye was on Harry. He shifted under their curious stares.

"Er," she said, her voice higher than usual out of nervousness, "well, hi."

The attention of the group turned to her briefly, although people continued to glance at Harry every now and then.

"Well... erm... well, you know why you're here. Um, Harry here had the idea - I mean, _I_ had the idea," she corrected at the look Harry gave her, "that it might be good if people who really wanted to study Defence Against the Dark Arts - and I mean really, really study it, not the rubbish that Umbridge is doing with us, because no one could call that Defence Against the Dark Arts... well, I thought if we could, well, you know, take matters into our own hands."

She paused, looking sideways at Harry, and went on, "And by that I mean learning how to defend ourselves properly, not just in theory but doing the real spells-"

"You want to pass your Defence OWL too, I bet?" said one boy.

"Of course I do," Hermione said at once. "But more than that I want to be properly trained in defence because... because..." She took a great breath and finished in a rush, "because Lord Voldemort is back."

The reaction of the students gathered around at that name never failed to surprise Tris. Several of the girls shrieked and spilled Butterbeer on their clothes; one of the boys gave an involuntary twitch; and another boy fell off his chair in shock at Hermione having said that name. All of them, however, continued to look eagerly at Hermione.

"Well... that's the plan, anyway," said Hermione. "If you want to join us, then we need to decide how we're going to organize this."

"Where's the proof that You-Know-Who's back?' asked a tall, blond boy aggressively.

"Well, Dumbledore believes it-" Hermione began.

"You mean, Dumbledore believes _him_," he corrected her, nodding at Harry.

"Who are _you_?" Ron asked him rudely.

"Zacharias Smith," said the boy, "and I think we've got the right to know exactly what makes him say You-Know-Who's back."

"That's not the point of this meeting," Ron said bluntly, but Harry cut across what he was saying.

"That's okay, Ron." Turning to Zacharias, Harry continued, "What makes me say You-Know-Who's back? I saw him. But Dumbledore told the whole school what was happening, and if you don't believe him, you won't believe me, and I'm not wasting a perfectly good afternoon trying to convince anyone."

Tris glanced around the cluster of students. The whole group seemed to have held its breath while Harry spoke. She got the distant impression that even the barman, still wiping the same glass with the same rag, was even listening on. She couldn't help but wonder if this quiet bar maybe wasn't the best place to be having such a secretive meeting in.

_You're right, Tris,_ said Briar in her mind.

_You've been listening in on my thoughts again?_

_Yeah. And you're right, we should have met in a crowded place, or out in the woods or something. We're too easily overheard here. Has it occurred to you that one of those other customers could be in disguise?_

Tris' eyes wandered around the room. All the other customers were covered up; one had their head wrapped entirely in bandages, while another was covered with a think black veil.

_Good point, Briar. Keep an eye on them, will you?_

_What for?_

_I don't know... just watch them in case they try to stop us when we leave or something..._

_If it makes you happy._

She turned her attention back to the conversation just in time to hear Zacharias say dismissively, "All Dumbledore told us was that you brought Cedric Diggory's body back to Hogwarts. He didn't exactly give us details on what happened."

"If all you've come to hear is what exactly it looks like when Voldemort murders someone, I can't help you," said Harry. Tris could see the anger rising inside him every time the blond boy spoke. "I don't want to talk about Cedric, all right? So if that's what you're here for, you might as well leave."

He turned angrily towards Hermione, who, flinching slightly, changed the subject quickly. "So, moving on... like I was saying, if you want to learn some defence, we need to work out where we're going to do it, and how often we're going to meet-"

"Is it true," interrupted a girl sitting next to Daja, "that you can produce a Patronus?"

"Yeah," said Harry, slightly defensively.

The girl looked impressed. "My auntie's on the Wizengamot, she said that you could. I'm Susan Bones, by the way. So it's true, then? You can make a stag Patronus?"

"Yeah," Harry said again, this time in a friendlier manner.

"Blimey, Harry, I didn't know you could do that!" exclaimed Lee Jordan, looking deeply impressed.

"Mum told Ron not to spread it around," commented Fred with a grin. "She said you get too much attention as it is."

"She's not wrong," said Harry with the faintest of smiles. A few people laughed in agreement.

"And did you really kill a Basilisk with that sword in Dumbledore's office?" demanded another boy. "That's what one of the portraits told me when I was in there last year."

"Er- yeah, I did." He was steadily started to turn red now.

"And in our first year," said Neville to the group, "he said that Philological Stone-"

"Philosopher's Stone," corrected Hermione.

"Yes, that - from You-Know-Who," finished Neville.

"Not to mention all the tasks he had to get through in the Triwizard Tournament last year," added Cho, smiling at him.

The four siblings listened to the comments of the group, feeling slightly awestruck. Back at home, they were the strangest kids; the ones who had fought off pirates, deadly diseases and forest fires; the ones who had survived being trapped underground in the middle of an earthquake. By the sound of it, Harry was just as well-known for surviving against the odds and fighting repeatedly against the mysterious figure only referred to as 'You-Know-Who'.

"Look," Harry said awkwardly, "I... I don't mean to sound like I'm being modest or anything, but I had a lot of help with all that stuff-"

"Not the dragon, you didn't; that was a seriously cool bit of flying."

"And nobody helped you get rid of those Dementors this summer."

"No," he said quickly before they could give him any more examples, "no, okay, I know I did bits of it without help, but the point I'm trying to make is-"

"Are you trying to weasel out of showing us this stuff?" Zacharias Smith said loudly.

"Here's an idea," Ron said just as loudly, "why don't you shut your mouth?" He looked as though eh would like nothing better than to thump him.

Zacharias backtracked and said, "Well, we've all turned up to learn from him and now he's telling us he can't do any of it."

"That's not what he said," snarled Fred.

"Do you want us to clean out your ears for you?' enquired George, pulling out a long and lethal-looking instrument from one of the Zonko's bags.

"Or any part of your body, really, we're not fussy about where we stick this," Briar added with a smirk, unable to restrain himself from joining in.

"Yes, well," said Hermione hastily, trying to salvage the meeting, "moving on, _again_. The point is, are we in agreement that we want to take lessons from Harry?"

There was a murmur of general agreement. Zacharias folded his arms and said nothing, instead keeping an eye on the instrument in Fred's hand.

"Right," said Hermione, looking relieved that something had finally been settled. Tris had to feel sorry for her for trying to organize, and keep on topic, such a large group of people. "Well, then, the next question is how often we can have meetings. I think we should aim for once a week at least."

"Hang on," the black haired Griffindor Quidditch captain, Angelina, put in. "We need to make sure that this doesn't clash with our Quidditch practises."

"Nor ours," said Cho.

"Nor ours," added Zacharias Smith.

"I'm sure we can find a night that suits everyone," Hermione said. "Well, the other thing to decide is where we're going to meet..."

Everyone fell silent, thinking.

"The library?" suggested Katie Bell after a few minutes.

"I can't see Madam Pince being too happy about us doing jinxes in the library," Tris pointed out. The librarian was well-known for her strict rules regarding the treatment of books.

"Maybe an unused classroom or something?" said someone else.

"I don't know; for all that the rules support study groups, I think that this would be considered rather more... rebellious," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Right, well, we'll try to find somewhere. We'll get a message around to everybody when we've got a time and place for the first meeting."

She rummaged around in her bag and produced parchment and a quill, and then hesitated, as though steeling herself to say something.

"I think everybody should write their name down here, just so we know who was here. But I also think that we all ought to agree not to shout about what we're doing. So if you sign up, you're agreeing not to tell Umbridge or anyone else what we're up to."

Fred reached out and cheerfully signed his name, but several people looked less than happy about putting their names on the paper. Hermione rolled her eyes and asked to the group in general, "Do you really think I'd leave this list lying around?" After that, everyone signed, even Zacharias. After the last person signed, Hermione rolled it up and slipped it into her bag. There was an odd feeling in the group now. It was as if they had just signed some sort of contract, an agreement, that had permanently tied them to each other.

**(A/N: I was going to end it here, but I sort of got on a roll and didn't want to stop. Lucky you! :D Keep reading on.)**

"Well, time's ticking on," Fred said cheerfully, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen upon the group. "George, Lee, Briar and I have got items of a rather sensitive nature to purchase, so we'll be seeing you all later." The four boys got to their feet and, taking up their bags, left the pub. Tris could see Sandry glaring towards Briar, who was purposely not looking in her direction.

"Come on, you know he's not going to get into anything _seriously_ dangerous or illegal," she murmured to her.

"There's no guarantee of that, and you know it as well as I do," Sandry pointed out. "I just wish he would stop fooling around with the twins, they seem to be rubbing off on each other. It's not good for him."

Tris exhaled sharply. "You're being too hard on him."

Sandry looked taken aback. "You really think so?"

"Yes, I do."

She frowned. "Maybe I am... a bit," she admitted after a moment's thought.

Tris smiled slightly. "I'm sure he understands," she told her sister. "It's just that, well, he can take care of himself."

"But he seems so helpless sometimes..." Sandry mused.

Daja laughed. "Helpless? Our Briar? Have you even looked at him lately? He smuggles knives in his shirt sleeves into nearly every teacher's class, and hasn't been caught with them yet. Gods, he juggles knives, for that matter. In the common room, in broad daylight."

Sandry shrugged. "I don't know how you can call that 'taking care of yourself'... but I'll think about it."

The three girls left the Hog's Head together and walked up the winding stone path back to the castle. On the way, they had plenty of time to talk and catch up with each other. All of them had been missing just being by themselves.

-x-

The next morning, Tris woke up to see Luna perched on the end of her bed. "Have you seen the signs?" the blonde girl asked her with unusual seriousness.

"I can't exactly see anything right now," Tris grumbled, fumbling around on her nightstand for her glasses. Once she had jammed them on her nose, she squinted at the younger girl. "What signs? Astrology signs, scrying signs, some coded message sent from Hinkypuffs?" Her friend never failed to amaze her with her complex explanations for simple occurrences. Luna had been trying to teach Tris about the wide range of magical creatures her father studied, and been rewarded in part when Tris memorized their various names without any hesitation about whether they actually existed.

"No, the signs downstairs," Luna said firmly, pointing down the hall with none of her usual vagueness. "I saw them when I got up early this morning. I could have sworn I heard a Crumple-Horned Snorkack behind me, but when I turned around, all I saw was this sign on the bulletin board."

"What was it about?" Tris asked sleepily, still uncertain as to whether it would be worth getting up an hour early for.

"It was another educational degree."

Tris sighed and pulled herself up. "Worth getting up for, to see what that witch has done next," she grumbled under her breath as she pulled one of her dresses over her head. Tying her assortment of braids back into a ponytail for the time being, she followed Luna downstairs and over to the bulletin board.

There, a large sign had been posted, covering all the previous announcements on second-hand spellbooks for sale, lost and found notices, the Quidditch team training schedule, and various other papers.

_By Order of the Hogwarts High Inquisitor_

_All student organizations, societies, teams, groups, and clubs are henceforth disbanded._

_An organization, society, team, group, or club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students._

_Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor._

_No student organization, society, team, group, or club may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor._

_The above is in accordance with Educational Degree Number Twenty-four._

_Signed: Dolores Jane Umbridge, High Inquisitor_

"Yikes," Tris muttered.

"What will this mean for our defence club?" Luna asked her, staring at the sign.

"I don't know. We'll have to ask Harry and Hermione."

Tris stared at the board. If they decided to go forward with the club, it would get a lot more rebellious than any of them had initially thought. She wasn't feeling too comfortable about it any more, but she knew that there was no backing out now.

Once everyone else was up, the two of them headed down to breakfast in the Great Hall. In the Hall, it became immediately obvious to both of them that the sign had been put up in all four dorms. There was a peculiar intensity about the amount of chatter and much more movement than usual as the students walked up and down between the tables, talking to each other about what they had read.

Tris was going to head over to the Gryffindor table when she noticed a number of people descending on where Ron, Harry and Hermione were sitting. Instead, she said aloud, "Let's go sit down, Luna, we'll find out later."

Once they had found their seats, Tris closed her eyes briefly and reached out towards Sandry and Briar. _Did you see the sign? Do you know what the plan is?_

_We're going to do it anyway,_ Briar told her determinedly.

_The prefects as well,_ Sandry added. _They're all willing to take the risk._

_Oh... hang on a sec, Tris._ There was a brief pause, and then Briar told her, _Hermione's really worried, everyone keeps trying to come over to our table, it looks really suspicious. Can you get your Ravenclaw mates to stay in their seats? Tell them what I told you._

_Sure thing, _she replied, waving her hands at Cho and her friends to get them to sit back down. They looked at her, confused, but she put a finger to her lips and closed her eyes again.

_Daj'? _they heard him call out_. _A moment passed, and then Daja responded.

_What's up? Besides the sign, that is, that's what everyone's wondering..._

_Listen, tell your friends to sit down; we don't want Umbridge getting suspicious. Tell them we're going ahead with it. Okay?_

_All right, Briar._ Daja's presence faded from their minds.

_So,_ Tris asked them, _do we know where we're going to meet yet?_

_No, the three of them are trying to find somewhere, but they're having a hard time with it,_ Sandry replied with a mental sigh.

_What about the enchanted room?_ Tris suggested. _Do you think it would fit all of us?_

_Probably,_ Briar said thoughtfully. _I mean, it changes size and shape and everything... I'll tell Harry. Thanks, Coppercurls. We might be able to meet sooner now._

_How will we tell everyone?_ Sandry started to ask, and then she laughed and said _Oh, right, we can be the messengers for now, with our connection!_

_Does anyone here know about our connection? _Tris questioned her sister.

_I think Hermione might have guessed, but we haven't told anyone._

_Well, don't tell them everything, okay? Just that we're able to communicate very easily with each other,_ Tris replied. She didn't feel comfortable, knowing that other people understood parts of how their magic could work.

_I won't,_ Sandry said comfortingly. _I understand how you feel._

_Gotta go, Tris, we'll keep in touch wit what's happening,_ Briar thought.

_All right. See you later._

Their presences faded from her mind, and Tris opened her eyes to see a very confused Cho staring at her.

"What was that about?" she asked her. "Why were you waving at me?"

"I was trying to get you to sit down, we don't want to attract Umbridge's attention to the Gryffindor table," Tris explained.

"Well, how will we find out anything if we can't go over there?" Cho asked with a frown.

Tris sighed. "Look, don't ask me how I know this, but I talked with my brother and sister and they said to pass along our houses that they're going ahead with the defence club despite the new degree."

Cho gaped at her for a second, then quickly swallowed her shock and nodded. "All right, then... where are we meeting?"

"They don't know for certain yet."

She nodded, mostly satisfied with those answers, and then turned back to her meal, whispering the message to her friend sitting beside her.

The day seemed to fly by. It seemed to be only a few minutes into Potions class, the first class with Umbridge grading her teacher during the lesson that Tris had had so far, when Briar's voice suddenly seemed to whisper in her ear, _Meet us tonight at seven thirty in the enchanted room. Bring your friends with you. _Just like that, he was gone, off to spread the word along to the others.

Directly after breakfast, she ran upstairs with Luna following behind her. The wooden door had already formed on the wall, so Tris grabbed the brass handle and walked inside.

The tiny meeting-room they had met in on their first day had transformed into a spacious room lit with flickering torches, like those that illuminated the dungeons. The walls were lined with huge wooden bookcases, and instead of chairs there were large silk cushions on the floor. A row of shelves along the far wall carried a variety of strange-looking instruments.

"Hey, Tris, Luna," Hermione greeted them from where she sat on the floor, a heavy book titled _Jinxes for the Jinxed_ sitting in her lap. Luna wandered over to one of the shelves and began reading the titles, while Tris went over to stand by Briar, who was inspecting the row of instruments.

"What are these, Harry?" he asked, turning to point them out.

Harry turned towards them. "They're Dark detectors," he told them. "Basically, they all show when Dark wizards or enemies are around, but you don't' want to rely on them too much, they can be fooled..." He stared into a large, cracked mirror for a moment before turning his back on it and instead facing the room.

More students were entering by the minute, and by the time eight o'clock arrived, every cushion was occupied. Ron, who was standing closest to the door, turned the key sticking out of the lock; it clicked shut in a satisfyingly loud way, and everyone turned to the front to face Harry.

"Well," Harry said nervously, "this is the place we've found to practice in, and you've obviously found it okay."

"It's fantastic!" Cho exclaimed, and several people nodded in agreement.

"It's bizarre," George said, frowning as he looked around. "Remember, Fred, we once hid in here from Filch? But it was just a broom cupboard then."

Harry nodded and said, "Well, all the places here are magical, so... why not this room too?" He looked around for a moment and then said, "So, I've been thinking about the sort of stuff we ought to do first and - what, Hermione?"

"I think we ought to elect a leader," Hermione said.

"Harry's the leader," Cho said at once, looking at Hermione as though she were mad.

"Yes, but I think we ought to vote on it properly," Hermione went on. "It makes it formal and it gives him authority. So - who votes for Harry?"

Every hands went up in the air, even Zacharias', although he put it up very half-heartedly.

"Er - right, thanks," said Harry, who was once again turning red. "And - _what_, Hermione?"

"I also think we ought to have a name," said Hermione brightly. "It would promote a feeling of team spirit and unity, don't you think?"

"How about the Anti-Umbridge League?" asked Angelina eagerly.

"Or the Ministry of Magic are Morons Group?" suggested Fred.

"I was thinking of something that doesn't tell everyone what we're up to, so we can talk about it outside meetings," Hermione said, frowning at Fred.

"The Defence Association?" asked Daja. "The DA for short, so nobody knows what we're talking about."

"Yeah, the DA's good; but let's make it stand for Dumbledore's Army, because that's the Ministry's worst fear, isn't it?"

There was a good deal of appreciative murmuring and laughing at this.

"Are we all in favour?" Hermione asked. Counting hands, she nodded and wrote across the top of her list of names, in large letters, the words _Dumbledore's Army_. Takign the parchment, she pinned it to the wall.

"Right," Harry said once she had sat back down, "I was thinking that the first thing we should do is _Expelliarmus_, you know, the Disarming Charm. I know it's pretty basic but I've found it really useful-"

"Oh, please," said Zacharias Smith, rolling his eyes. "I don't think_ Expelliarmus_ is exactly going to help us against You-Know-Who, do you?"

"I've used it against him," said Harry quietly. "It saved my life in June. But if you think it's beneath you, you can leave."

Smith did not move. Nor did anyone else.

"Ok, then," Harry said louder, "I reckon we should all divide up into pairs and practise."

Tris and Luna stood opposite each other in a long, two-way line of people that stretched from the door to the opposite wall. On the count of three, Tris raised her wand and shouted, "_Expelliarmus!_"

A bright streak of light that had an odd resemblance to a bolt of lightning flew across the room and hit an unprotected Luna, causing her wand to fly out of her hand and spin out of reach. Grinning, Tris flicked her wand and said, "_Accio_," summoning it back.

They went like this, back and forth, for quite a while. In between rounds, Tris looked around the room to see how everyone else was doing. It seemed as though Harry had been right in starting with an easy spell; many people were unable to cast a proper Disarming spell.

Harry blew a whistle and began individually instructing the different pairs on how to improve their spellcasting. Slowly, the general performance of the room improved. By the end of the class, Luna was able to Disarm Tris half of the time she cast the spell, an improvement from merely causing books to leap from the shelves or making Tris' hair stand on end from the weakness of her spells. She had gone back to her usual vague, dreamy self, and was very obviously eavesdropping on Harry's conversations with the various members of the DA.

"Well," she said after one successful attempt, "my dad is very supportive of any anti-Ministry action. He's always saying he's believe anything of Fudge; I mean, the number of goblins Fudge ahs had assassinated! And of course he uses the Department of Mysteries to develop terrible poisons, which he secretly feeds to anybody who dares to question him. And then there's his Umgubular Slashkilter..." She shook her head mournfully and continued describing all the reasons why Fudge was an unsuitable Minister to a very amused Tris.

"Hey, Harry," Hermione suddenly called, 'have you checked the time?"

Harry glanced down at his watch and then blew his whistle sharply.

"Well, that was pretty good," he said as the last wands clattered to the ground, "but we've overrun, we'd better leave it here. Same time next week?"

"The Quidditch season's about to start, we need team practices still," Angelina put in quickly.

"Let's make it Wednesday night, then," said Harry, "we can decide on later meeting then. Come on, we'd better get going."

Sneakily, they left the room in pairs and crept along the halls back to their common rooms. Tris found, to her surprise, that she already couldn't wait for their next DA meeting.

**A/N: Finally, a nice long chapter! Maybe you can thank me with a nice long review :)**

**The main reason this got to be so long is because it's finally Easter Break, and with a long weekend it's easy to write. I'll try to post again next week; I don't think it's goign to be quite this long though. This was a one-time thing, pretty rare for me.**

**I've got a Poll up on my profile, please check it out and vote! It's on what POVs I should write future chapters in, pretty helpful for updating, you have to admit *hint hint* Vote please!**

**Have a great Easter everyone!**

**~Lyrannae**


	17. AN

**Alrighty, so this isn't an actual chapter, but an AN, as you may have guessed from the title.**

**I'm incredibly sorry for being so late in updating!! The past few weeks have been really hectic for me, and now I've got exams coming up and even less time to write. Not to mention my family being a little worried about my previous "writing obsession" and restricting my computer access until I finish studying...I'm not mad at them or anything, they just want me not to fail exams, but still...it's so sad how school gets in the way of doing what I want to do. Why is it so difficult?? *bangs head against wall***

**Currently I'm writing this during history class, when I finally gotten to have a few minutes on the computer :) I wanted to let you all know three things;**

**One: I'm still alive. I wasn't eaten by the Hungarian Horntail. (You've gotta admit, that'd be a good excuse for not updating.)**

**Two: I am definately continuing with this story; the reason I haven't updated it is not, under any circumstances, because I've given up on it. I like writing it too much^^**

**Three: I really appreciate you all being so supportive and understanding of life getting in the way and not heckling me about my recent lack of updates. It's really nice to have an understanding audience :D**

**I've hereby decided that exams suck, and on a slightly more positive note, I've gotten a really thick journal to carry around with me everywhere in the hopes that I'll get some time to write in it and later transfer to the computer. I'll try to update asap, it's just that 'asap' will be a bit later than originally expected.**

**Again, I'm sorry!! but thanks so much for your continued support and appreciation of this story.**

**Oops, the teacher's coming around.**

**Hopefully I'll see you all soon..**

**~Lyrannae**


	18. Chapter 17

**AN: School just got out yesterday and I've finally had time to sit down and complete this! Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 17 - Wands, Broomsticks and Other Things

Minerva walked briskly down the winding corridor, several sheets of parchment and a thick book carried in one hand as she held her slender wand in the other. Heels tapping and cape fluttering behind her, she paused at the door to her classroom and unlocked it with a simple spell. Once inside, she locked the door again and then went up to the front of the classroom. She laid the papers down on her desk before turning to face the room.

_It's tidied up quite nicely,_ she thought. Her monkeys were contentedly munching on pieces of fruit, and the large, rather handsome parrot that sat perched in a wire cage that hung from the ceiling was sleeping. It was very silent and peaceful in comparison to the noise that the students would soon be making.

She picked up one of her papers, and read it over. Today she would be teaching the fifth-year Hufflepuffs first... ah yes. That Kisubo girl would be with them. And tomorrow was the Quidditch match. Oh, how she hoped her Gryffindors would win the Cup again this year.

Minerva sighed and rubbed her temple wearily. She had been hard-pressed to find enough work to keep Daja occupied. After the initial incident with the metal beetle, she had tried to avoid giving her any assignments that had to do with casting spells. In fact, the second day that she had taught her, she had assigned Daja to research every spell they had used from first-year to fourth-year so that, as she said, the girl would be 'prepared to use them with the precision of the students here who have already learnt them'; but of course, she had had no real intention of letting her cast any spells before Albus found out more about their type of magic. She had assigned the other three exchange students to do the same thing, much to their extreme disappointment.

Placing the paper aside, Minerva raised her wand and pointed it at the desk where Daja, and conveniently the other three students, sat. Muttering under her breath, she cast a complex spell on it that would make the desk not only fire-proof, but also water-proof, shock-resistant and anti-explosive. She would take no chances with the girl's strange powers. There was still soot coating the legs of both desk and chair that she had not been able to remove, not even with the strongest Scouring Charm. She had seen no sense in replacing the desk; who knew whether it would happen again?

Once again returning to her papers, Minerva opened her desk drawer and pulled out a bundle of tests that were written by her third-year class the previous day. Casting a brief spell on them, she returned them to her drawer as slashes of red ink began to appear over the answers. Just by the intensity of the slashes, she could tell that the student whose test was on the top of the pile had definately failed.

Walking over to the large windows lining the far wall, Minerva pulled aside the curtains, and seeing the sunlight outside, used her wand to roll them up to the top of the windows. Tucking her wand into a secret compartment in her desk chair, she pushed it in front of the windows at such a position that the rays of light would land across the centre of the chair. She then turned herself into her cat form and leapt up onto it, curling up into a ball in the sunlight.

Being in her cat form was wonderful. Like any other witch or wizard, the first time she managed to transform had felt extremely strange; the technique took her several months to perfect. By now, it was as comfortable and easy as falling asleep, which was what she did, in a way. She had to close off her human mind and allow the tiny part of her brain that thought like a cat to come out and take over. It had taken her years of study to cast the spells required... but it was worth it. Getting to lie down on the soft cushion of her chair and feel the sunlight warming her fur felt like heaven. It made her feel years younger, and that was saying something.

It seemed like hours, but was probably much less than that, before her keen feline ears heard the sound of feet walking down the corridor and the excited chatter of students. Yawning widely, Minerva leaped off her chair and returned to her human form before pushing the chair back to her desk. Reaching underneath, she released the secret compartment that kept her wand safe and pulled it out, after which she flicked it in the direction of the door to unlock it once more.

There was the briefest pause of silence before the students entered her classroom. Talking amongst themselves, they each filed into their desks, and as Minerva came forward to the front of the room, there was silence once more.

Glancing down briefly at her notes outlining her outline for today, she faced her class and greeted them in her typical firm tone.

"Good morning, class. Today we will be continuing with your Vanishing Spells. By now, most of you have successfully managed to Vanish your snails, and even those left with a bit of shell have at least gotten the general idea of it. Now we are going to move on to the rather more difficult task of Vanishing mice. Who can tell me why the difficulty of a Vanishing Spell increases when you move from snails to mice?"

Minerva looked around the room. "Yes, Miss Abbott?"

"The Vanishing Spell becomes more difficult as the complexity of the animal increases. The snail is an invertebrate, and so it doesn't present much of a challenge. The mouse, on the other hand, is a mammal, which is significantly more complex than an invertebrate," Hannah Abbott recited from memory, frowning slightly as she tried to remember the entire reason.

"Correct. Five points to Hufflepuff for that elaborate description," Minerva said approvingly. She saw several girls around Hannah grin at her. "Well done," one of them whispered.

Minerva picked up a box from her desk that was filled with white and brown mice. Handing the box off to an extremely reluctant Susan Bones, she sat down at her desk to check on how the marking of her third-year papers were going.

"Why does she always pick on me to hand out creepy, wriggling little creatures?" she faintly heard Susan mutter as she walked around the class.

Soon, the room was filled with chants of _Evanesco_ as the students tried to Vanish their mice. A particularly loud amount of squeaking drew Minerva's attention to the far corner, where a bored-looking Zacharias Smith was using his wand to make his mouse fly up and down through the air.

"Mr Smith," she called out sternly, "if you ever do that to your mouse again I shall put you in detention!" The blonde boy grudgingly stopped flicking his wand and went back to muttering the spell, automatically turning it invisible.

Minerva has just gotten back to reading a recent publication of _Theories of Transubstantial Transfiguration_ when she heard a quiet voice say, "Excuse me, Professor McGonagall?"

Glancing up, she saw it was Daja Kisubo.

"Yes, Miss Kisubo, what is it?" she asked the girl.

Daja held out a thick stack of papers. "I finished researching the spells you assigned me," she told her. Minerva noted the tired look in her eyes from the amount of studying she had done. Underneath one arm, Daja still carried the heavy text that she had lent her.

Minerva took the papers from her and flipped through. Outwardly she still appeared calm, but in reality she was starting to worry. What else could she assign the girl to do? It was clear that she had worked hard to finish her research; there were no other spells left over.

As she was reading through, Daja spoke again. "Professor, since I've finished... do you think I could try the spells now?"

Minerva looked up at her. The girl's eyes were filled with hope and pleading. Minerva felt a strange sense of compassion for the girl, and she finally nodded.

"Your papers are very well done," she told her. "It is clear to me that you have worked hard." She sighed, and then uttered the last line. "I suppose it is only fair to allow you to proceed with using the spells."

Daja's eyes lit up, and she practically jumped off the floor as she said, "Thank you, Professor!"

She handed the text back to Minerva, who in turn started to give her one of the mice before hesitating. "Now, you might want to start with a snail first, they're much easier," she said thoughtfully.

Eagerly, Daja grabbed a snail from off her desk and skipped off to the blackened table in the corner where she sat. Minerva followed her, more than a bit nervous.

Tossing her thick black braids over her shoulder, Daja sat down at her desk and gently placed the snail on its charred surface. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a thick, dark brown stick out of a side pocket. Frowning, Minerva bent closer, peering at it over the wire rim of her glasses. It looked like... a wand.

Perhaps noticing her interest in it, Daja glanced up at the professor. "It's my new wand," she told her, an excited look in her dark eyes. "I just got it a couple days ago."

Minerva nodded, keeping her face carefully blank. What did she mean when she said 'I just got it'? You didn't just _get_ wands. You had to go to Ollivander's, get your measurements taken, search through his dust-lined shelves to find the perfect fit... it could take many tries. She, herself, had gone through nearly half of the elderly man's wands and knocked over many of his shelves before locating the one that was destined to be hers. Even if Daja had taken only one or two attempts - a remarkable feat in itself - she would have had to go down to Diagon Alley. Albus certainly would have mentioned that, she thought.

Lightly tapping the snail's shell with her wand, Daja whispered the spell. "Evanesco." She stared intently at the creature, as though willing it to vanish.

To Minerva's shock, it did. Slowly, small fragments of its' shell and body began to flicker and disappear. Daja frowned in concentration and said the spell again, louder this time, and then the snail's body wavered and vanished completely.

Minerva blinked, the only sign of her surprise. "Try turning it back," she suggested to the satisfied girl. Daja merely nodded and flicked her wand at it. The snail reappeared within seconds. Throughout the entire process, Minerva made sure to get a clear view of both the snail and the girl's wand, in case Albus would want to use her memories in his magical visualization enhancing machine.

Daja looked up at her, grinning, which was unusual in itself. The girl seemed to typically be very calm and unemotional, yet now she looked as though her entire world had been lit up.

"Good job," Minerva complimented her, still puzzling over the fact that she had a wand. "It's amazing that you were able to perform the spell straight off."

"Yes... well... I have been practising a bit in the common room." Seeing the look on her face, Daja hastily added, "I was being really careful not to, you know, blow anything up. But all the spells worked fine for me."

"Well, good. I suppose you are now ready to join our classes for real." Waving her wand, Minerva Summoned a mouse from the box on her desk and placed it down in front of the girl. "Practise with a mouse now."

"Thank you, Professor." Daja turned to look excitedly at Hannah Abbott as she raised her wand and said the spell again.

Minerva sat back down at her desk and rubbed her forehead wearily. _Well, that's one of the four taken care of,_ she thought. _All that's left now is to figure out how their magic works. I wonder how Albus has gotten on with his research._

Opening up her book again, Minerva turned to a page on the theories of Animagi and continued to read.

* * *

The day after Daja proudly told them of her success in her Transfiguration class, Briar woke up to the sounds of anxious talking in the dorm. Opening his eyes, he yanked back the thick blanket and sat up, grumbling aloud. "Who's making all that noise?"

"Sorry we woke you, Briar," Harry said quickly. Ron sat beside him on the floor, looking miserable.

"What's the matter?" Briar addressed him.

Ron groaned. He looked naseous. "It's the first Quidditch match today, Gryffindor versus Slytherin. I must've been mental to try out for Keeper; I'm going to screw this up real bad."

"No you won't, Ron. You'll do brilliantly." Harry pulled on a long-sleeved red and gold woollen sweater.

Briar shook his head. "Stop arguing about it. Either you'll do good, or you won't. Bleatin' about it won't help you."

"Bleating?" Harry repeated, confused.

"Crying, whining, complaining, bleating," Briar offered.

Ron tied up a pair of tall leather boots. "Whatever. I'm going to fail miserably."

"C'mon, mate, don't think like that," Harry said encouragingly. "Let's go get some breakfast, that'll make you feel better."

Ron grumbled something under his breath as he pulled on his own red and gold sweater. After attempting to put it on backwards before Harry took pity on him and pulled it around the right way, he looked as though he was seriously considering strangling himself with the long sleeves.

"Wait for me," Briar said, reaching for his Hogwarts robe. He didn't like wearing the shirt and black pants the other boys wore as part of their uniform, so instead he wore the long black robe overtop of his loose, wide-sleeved shirt and pants. That way, he could keep his knives hidden inside the sleeves.

Briar grinned to himself. The girls would be furious if they found out that he had managed to sneak his knives into Hogwarts. But he wasn't giving them up - he felt safer with them, like he could protect himself. He wrapped a red-and-gold striped scarf around his neck and then followed the others out into the common room.

The three boys walked down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Harry and Briar chatted away in an attempt to make Ron more relaxed, but the redhead just stumbled along staring blankly ahead.

"I think he's in shock," Harry whispered to Briar.

"You think?" Briar whispered back.

In the Great Hall, the sunlight that came streaming in through the huge glass windows made the room bright and cheerful despite the growing tensions between the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables. It was sunny with clear skies outside, although the air had a crisp feeling to it, reminding everyone that winter was on the way.

As they approached the Gryffindor table, a wall of people clad in red and gold stood up to greet them. With every cheer, Ron's face grew paler and paler. Harry firmly steered his friend over to a seat next to Hermione and Sandry.

"Here, Ron, have some pumpkin juice and porridge," Hermione said fretfully, "you look exhausted."

"Couldn't sleep," Ron said hoarsely, his red hair sticking up every which way from a night of tossing and turning giving testimony to that statement.

Fred and George came walking down to greet them.

"Hey, little brother! Excited for the big match?" Fred asked him with a huge grin.

Ron just stared up at them, unable to speak.

"Yeah, yeah, that's what we thought. Well, eat up Ronnie, you'll need your strength," George told him.

"If you'll excuse us, we're off to wish the Slytherins good luck." The two staggered off laughing.

"They look drunk," Hermione said disapprovingly.

"Wouldn't surprise me," Ron muttered, staring into his porridge as though he would like nothing better then to drown himself in it. "I was mental to do this. _Mental_."

Briar sighed and shoved a goblet of juice in front of him. "At the very least, have something to drink."

Ron picked it up and chugged it down, not even seeming to notice what he was drinking. "What was I thinking?" he moaned. "I can't play to save my life."

"Get a grip, it's normal to be nervous," Harry said, firmly pressing a second glass of juice into his hand. "Look at that save you made with your foot the other day, even Fred and George said it was brilliant."

Ron looked agonized. "That was a mistake; I slipped off my broom when nobody was watching and accidentally kicked the Quaffle with my foot."

Harry seemed very surprised at hearing this, but at that moment Tris and Luna came over to the Gryffindor table, the latter wearing what appeared to be a large lion head.

"Hello, Harry, Ronald," Luna said in her dreamy way. "Tris helped me make this hat. For supporting Gryffindor, you know." She pointed unnecessarily at the top of her head.

"It looks... interesting," Harry said, seeming to struggle with finding the right word to describe the hat.

"Look what it does," she added, tapping it with her wand. A huge roar reverberated through the room, making everyone nearby jump. Tris smiled slightly from beside her. Briar could have sworn he saw a tiny gust of wind stream from her fingertips, causing the lion's roar to echo loudly in the room.

"That's really cool," Sandry said honestly.

"I wanted to make it chewing up a snake, for Slytherin, but there wasn't time... anyways, good luck, Ronald!" Luna waved at them and meandered back to the Ravenclaw table.

Briar smiled. _Looks like you're finding some friends here after all, Coppercurls, _he commented through their connection, feeling her roll her eyes.

_And you thought it wasn't possible._

_I had complete faith in you, and you know it. You really need to show people your friendly side more, you know that?_

_What friendly side?_

"So, Briar, Sandry," Harry said, cutting into his mental conversation with Tris, "have you two ever watched a Quidditch game?"

"Sandry watched a practise," Briar said, "but I've never seen one."

"It's really cool, you're really going to like it."

Sandry looked pale and hurried off with an excuse that she had a detention to do with one of the teachers.

Hermione frowned. "She never gets detentions."

"She's just saying that," Briar excused his foster-sister. "She's scared of brooms."

"Oh." Hermione still looked confused. "Then why didn't she just say that?"

His reply was cut off by the timely interruption of a red envelope over by the Slytherin table that was alternating between shouting "MONTAGUE SUCKS!" and combining a variety of swear words with badly-phrased insults of the Slytherin Quidditch team. Over by one of the windows, Briar could see the Weasley twins hunched over cackling as the red envelope proceeded to float after a very harassed-looking boy storming out of the Hall.

The sudden silence in the room after the boy's departure was soon filled with laughter, or in the Slytherin's case, silent glowers towards the other three tables. Briar was surprised that no one seemed to notice the twins, seeing as they were very obviously at the root of the commotion, but when he looked back towards the corner and saw they were no longer there he guessed they had made a run for it.

Turning back to Hermione, he replied, "She doesn't want to look scared, right? I bet she'll end up watching from the windows."

"Maybe I should lend her my binoculars," Hermione said thoughtfully, jumping up and hurrying off out of the Hall. Briar remained behind with Harry, trying to get Ron to eat something other than juice. However, it soon became apparent to them that Ron was not capable of eating anything more and so Harry decided to take him down to the pitch. He cheerfully waved them off before sitting back down and helping himself to Ron's full plate of food. _Can't let good food go to waste! _he thought.

_You are a pig Briar. You know that, right?_

_Of course I do, Sandry, of course I do. _Briar refilled his bowl again.

After a lengthy meal, he walked down to the Quidditch pitch with Lee Jordan. Lee was doing what he called the 'commentary' and so he took Briar with him, up a tall pillar that had a stand with a scoreboard on it.

"Briar, sit down here and I'll sit here. Once the match starts we'll have the best seat in the house!" he said with a huge grin, his teeth white against his dark skin.

A roar of sound greeted the players as they stepped out onto the pitch. The broom instructor, Madam Hooch, strode out into the middle of the field. She said something to them and the two captains stepped forward, shaking hands, the tall Montague looking more like he was trying to crush Angelina's fingers than anything else. Another command from Madam Hooch, and the players mounted their brooms, tensing in anticipation as she slowly raised her wand before snapping it outwards to release the four balls. There was a sharp blow on the whistle, and then the players took off into the air.

Briar watched in amazement. Back home, unless you were a mage it was impossible to fly. He didn't think Tris had even done it, and she could manipulate the winds! Yet here they were, merely sitting on brooms of all things and shooting off into the sky. It looked like a lot of fun.

"Aaand they're off!" Lee shouted into his wand which projected his voice across the field. "And it's Johnson, Johnson with the Quaffle, what a player that girl is, I've been saying it for months but she still won't go out with me..."

"Jordan!" yelled an irritated Professor McGonagall.

"...Just a fun fact Professor, adds a bit of interest - and she's ducked Warrington, passed Montague, she's - ouch - been hit by a Bludger from Crabbe... Montague catches the Quaffle, heading back up the pitch and - nice Bludger there from one of the Weasley twins, that's a Bludger to the head... and Katie Bell catches the Quaffle, reverse-passes to Alicia Spinnet, and Spinnet's away... dodges Warrington, clears a Bludger, and the crowd is loving this, what's that they're singing?"

Lee paused dramatically, tilting his head towards the stands, and as the song rose from the Slytherin section Briar started getting a really bad feeling about this.

_Weasley cannot save a thing, he cannot block a single ring,_

_That's why Slytherins all sing: Weasley is out King._

_Weasley was born in a bin, he always lets the Quaffle in,_

_Weasley will make sure we win, Weasley is our King!_

Lee swore loudly; thankfully, the wand was pointed away from his mouth at the moment. He shoved it towards him and began shouting his commentary as loud as he could, trying to drown out the words of the song. But as Warrington grabbed the Quaffle and came speeding towards the hoops, the pressure must have been too much for Ron because he dived wildly and the Quaffle soared right between his arms.

Briar groaned, as did everyone in the stands except for the Slytherins who were singing their song even louder. Lee swore again, and McGonagall moved closer threateningly. "Sorry Professor," he muttered, looking not at all sorry, before launching back into commentating the match. Eventually, Briar let the cheers and shouts muffle in his ears as he watched the game intently.

The Slytherins scored again moments after, and Briar's eyes followed the players on the field as though he could somehow mentally direct them into winning. Through the song and shouts, he could just hear Luna's lion hat roaring away. Then suddenly Harry dived, his long cloak flying out behind him. Malfoy came streaking beside him, and for a second it looked like it would be close, but then it was all over; Harry pulled up on his broom, the Golden Snitch held triumphantly in his clenched fist. As Harry grinned in triumph and the Gryffindors cheered, one of the Slytherin Beaters, in a moment of frustration, swung his bat and knocked a Bludger into his back. Luckily he was only a few feet off the ground and safely rolled off his broom, but Briar was on his feet yelling in anger with the rest of them as Madam Hooch blew her whistle and stormed over to the boy.

The Gryffindor team surrounded Harry, seeming to be making sure he was all right. Malfoy and the Slytherins landed nearby, the blond boy shouting incomprehensible words towards them. Suddenly, the three girls were all grabbing hold of Fred as though physically restraining him from lunging at the boy, and Harry was hanging on tightly to George. Then Malfoy snarled something else, and suddenly Harry and George were both charging towards them.

Briar gasped as Harry punched Malfoy in the stomach and George slugged him a good one in the face. A part of his brain, the street rat part, was commenting on the surprising amount of accuracy and power in their attack; yet another part of his brain was screaming, _stop it before something worse happens!_ as he saw George pull out a wand and point it towards Malfoy. Feeling a strange sense of anger sweep over him, he turned his head, trying to figure out where it was coming from, and then he saw Tris.

She was staring down at the three boys fighting on the field. Without hesitation, she reached back and undid one of the bands that restrained the power in her thick red braids.

_What are you doing? _Briar asked her nervously, but she ignored him, focussing on her magic.

The wind picked up, blowing fiercely around her, whipping her hair around in it as the kids sitting and standing nearby struggled to move away from her. Lightning bolts flickered throughout her hair and time seemed to freeze as every eye turned to watch her... everyone, that is, except for the three boys fighting below.

Tris frowned, concentrating hard as she chewed on the tip of one of the thin braids that framed her face. Clouds gathered and the sky darkened, and suddenly a torrential downpour of rain burst from the sky and fell onto the pitch. The stands remained clear of rain, but the darkness in the center caused the boys to pause and look around in surprise.

Reaching out her hand, Tris pointing a finger shakily towards the pitch. _Steady, steady, _Briar could feel her thinking before finally whispering, "Strike."

A long bolt of heat and fire spread out from her finger, shooting downwards and hitting the ground in between the three boys. It branched out into three strands, each one serving to separate the boys from each other. They jumped back in fright, staring up towards the red-haired girl as she guided the lightning, carefully forming a wall of heat and energy in between them.

As she did up her braids once more, the clouds dispensed and the wind calmed, until all that remained of her incredible display of power was a flickering barrier of lightning and a fiercely annoyed look in her gray eyes. Tris turned slightly, catching Briar's eyes, before walking slowly down the long stairway that led to the pitch. As soon as she was gone, the stands exploded into noise.

"Alrighty mates!" Lee shouted into his wand. "The show's over! Clear the stands, clear the pitch, and just as a reminder in these distracting times, GRYFFINDOR WINS!"

Briar looked back towards the pitch. Harry and George were being pulled away by a very angry Madam Hooch, with Tris trailing behind them, braided the remaining lightning back into her hair.

_Now they know what happens when you get mad, _he thought to her wryly.

_Yes, well, now they're mad too, _she pointed out, her mental voice filled with sarcasm._ I've got to go now. See you later, Briar. Try not to spread too many rumours about me while I'm gone._

* * *

"I've never seen such behaviour like it!" Madam Hooch shouted at George and Harry. "Back up to the castle, both of you, and straight to Professor McGonagall's office! Miss Chandler, go with them! In all my years..." She shook her head furiously and bent over Malfoy, who was curled up on the ground whimpering, his nose and robes bloodied.

Harry and George marched off angrily, neither saying a word to each other. Tris followed directly behind them.

"That was really stupid of you, you know," she remarked mildly as though discussing the weather. The anger she had felt at seeing them fighting had faded as quickly and easily as she had removed the lightning bolts from the field.

George snorted. "If you heard what he was saying, you wouldn't be questioning us," he said tersely.

"Yes, actually, I did hear," Tris told him in a matter-of-fact way.

Harry sighed. "We're going to be in so much trouble..." he muttered, looking down at his hand which still held the Golden Snitch. "But it was worth it."

They had barely reached the door of McGonagall's office when she came striding down the corridor towards them. She was wearing a Gryffindor scarf but tore it off with shaking hands, looking livid.

"In!" she commanded furiously, pointing to the door, and the three of them obeyed immediately. She strode around her desk and faced them, quivering with fury as she threw the scarf aside.

"_Well?_" she said, her voice dangerous. "I have never seen such a disgraceful exhibition. Two on one! Explain yourselves!"

"Malfoy provoked us," Harry responded stiffly.

"Provoked you?" shouted McGonagall, slamming a fist angrily onto her desk, causing a silver tin to go sliding off and burst open, scattering cookies across the floor. "He'd just lost, hadn't he? Of course he wanted to provoke you two!"

"He insulted my parents," snarled George, his face as red as his hair. "And Harry's mother."

"He was being extremely rude," Tris commented.

"But instead of leaving it to Madam Hooch to sort out, you two decided to give us an exhibition of Muggle duelling, did you?" the Professor bellowed."Have you any idea-"

"_Hem, hem_."

Tris groaned internally at the tiny, false cough coming from the door. Not her...

All three of them whirled around to see Professor Umbridge standing there, wearing a large green cloak that made her look even more like the toad Briar had nicknamed her for.

"May I help, Professor McGonagall?" Umbridge asked in a poisonously sweet voice.

Apparently it was possible for Professor McGonagall to turn even redder in the face, for she did at those words. "Help?" she repeated. "What do you mean, _help_?"

Sill smiling, Professor Umbridge moved into the room. "Why, I thought you might be grateful for additional authority in light of the situation."

"Well, you thought wrong," McGonagall said, turning back to Harry and George. "Now, you two had better listen closely. I do not care if Malfoy insulted every family member you possess, you had no right to respond in such a dramatic way, and I am giving you each a week's worth of detentions! Do not look at me like that, Potter, you deserve it! And if either of you ever-"

"_Hem, hem_."

McGonagall closed her eyes briefly before turning her face towards the woman again.

"_Yes?_"

"I think that they deserve more than detentions," said Umbridge, smiling even more broadly.

"But unfortunately," Professor McGonagall said stiffly, "it is what I think that counts, as these two are in my House, Dolores."

"Well, actually, Minerva, I think you'll find that what I think _does_ count. Now where is it?" she murmured, rummaging through her handbag. "Ah, here it is. Cornelius, I mean, the _Minister_, just sent it." She pulled out a piece of parchment, unrolled it and began to read.

"_Hem, hem_... 'Educational Degree number Twenty-five'."

"Not another one!" exclaimed Professor McGonagall in a shocked tone.

"Well, yes, as a matter of fact it was you who made me realize this one was necessary. You remember how you overrode me and took the case to Dumbledore when I was unwilling to allow the Gryffindor Quidditch team to re-form?"

At that, Harry and George blinked at each other in surprise. Tris gave a silent whistle, a habit she had picked up from Briar.

"Well, now," Umbridge continued, "I really couldn't have that happening again! I contacted the Minister, and he quite agreed with me that as the High Inquisitor, I would have to have the power to strip pupils of privileges, or I would have less authority than the common teacher! And now, don't you see I was right in attempting to stop the team from re-forming? Absolutely _dreadful _tempers... now, where was I... _hem, hem_... 'the High Inquisitor shall hereby have supreme authority over all punishments, sanctions and removal of privileges pertaining to the students of Hogwarts, and the powers to alter such punishments, etc, as may have been ordered by another teacher. Signed, Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, Order of Merlin First Class, etc, etc.'"

She rolled the parchment up and turned to face Harry and George.

"So, I really think I will have to ban these two from playing Quidditch ever again," she said softly, looking between them. "And just to be safe, I think we ought to ban Mr Weasley's twin as well."

"Ban us?" Harry said, his voice sounding distant. "From playing... ever again?"

"Yes, I think a lifetime ban ought to do the trick. And I think I will have to ban Miss Chandler from watching matches in the future, so that she is not tempted to cut into situations that teachers are quite able to handle."

Tris did not respond to this. Fiddling with one of her braids, she absentmindedly played with the sparks that came off, not noticing how Umbridge backed away at seeing the sparks. She really didn't care whether or not she was there in person, as long as they weren't fighting. It had been her hope that by stopping them they wouldn't get into too much trouble, but obviously that was pointless now.

So she was surprised when McGonagall said, "Dolores, don't you think that's a bit harsh?"

"However do you mean?"

"She is an exchange student; she doesn't know how things work here. I expect she was unaware that students are not allowed to interrupt matches."

Umbridge thought a moment, pursing her lips, and finally said, "All right. I will give you one more chance, Miss Chandler, but if anything suspicious happens you will be removed. As for you two, I will be getting Madam Hooch to come by to confiscate your brooms. I am not unreasonable, Minerva," she added, turning to Professor McGonagall. "The rest of the team can keep playing, I saw no signs of violence from them. Well... good afternoon to you."

Umbridge swept from the room, leaving a shocked silence behind her.

"You three may as well return to your common-rooms," McGonagall said finally when speech returned to her. "I see no further reason to add on to her punishment, so consider your detentions removed."

Harry immediately left the room but George and Tris stayed behind to help the professor scoop up the ginger cookies that had fallen over the floor. They left together, shutting the door behind them.

"Bloody hell," George said finally. "No Seekers and no Beaters... no more Quidditch... what're we going to do?"

"I'm sure it will all work out," Tris said, still playing with her hair.

George glanced at her. "Just out of curiosity, how did you make those lightning bolts? What spell did you use?"

Tris actually laughed. "There's no spell; the magic is in me." She held out a hand, and a miniature bolt of lightning flickered along her fingers. "See? No wand."

"And you can just do that... whenever?" There was a look in his eyes that was disturbingly similar to her foster-brother's.

"Yes, I can," she answered slowly.

"Really? 'Cause, well, don't tell anyone, but Fred and I are planning on starting our own line of fireworks. But we need them to be good, y'know, better than Filibuster's, or no one will buy them. So, I was wondering... maybe you could help us?"

Tris thought about it for a moment. Seeing the doubt on her face, George hastily added, "We're planning on using them to torment Umbridge with, but we can't exactly do that unless you can't get rid of them. We want to have them as a living, eternal record of us at Hogwarts. At least, eternal until she leaves."

Tris smiled slowly. "In that case... all right."

George grinned. Excellent!" They walked in companionable silence for a few moments, and then he added, "You look really hot with lightning all around you, by the way." At her glare, he chuckled and added, "_Hot_, Tris, geddit? Heat... hotness..."

She rolled her eyes at him, and he laughed, throwing an arm around her shoulders before running off towards the Gryffindor tower.

_You're getting soft, you know, _she scolded herself._ There was a time when you would have blasted him for that lame joke. It's Briar's fault, he's made you have a soft spot for pranksters._

Shaking her head, Tris turned the corner and walked off towards the Ravenclaw tower.

* * *

When Briar returned to the common room that evening, the celebration of winning seemed dulled by the realization that they now had four players left on the team. Angelina seemed to have collapsed; she sat in a chair, staring into the flames in shock.

"It's just so unfair," Alicia said numbly. "I mean, Crabbe hit that Bludger after the whistle was blown. Did he get banned?"

"Nope," said Ginny Weasley miserably. "He just got lines, I heard Montague laughing about it afterwards."

"And she banned Fred when he didn't even do anything!" Katie said furiously, punching the nearest sofa cushion so hard that feathers burst from the seam.

"It's not my fault," Fred said with a very ugly look on his face, "I would've pummelled the little scumbag to a pulp if you two hadn't held me back." He glowered at a group of second-years that were laughing over by the window.

Seated next to Harry, Briar stared into the fire glumly. The stolen Snitch zoomed above his head and he reached up his hand to grab it, studying the way the gold glinted in the firelight before releasing it.

"I'm going to bed," Angelina muttered, rising painfully to her feet. "Maybe I'll wake up and this all will have been a dream..." She stumbled up the stairs.

Trying to distract himself from what had happened, he pulled out a set of juggling balls Lee had lent him and spun them around in the air. He was able to get to rotating five around before dropping one and losing the rhythm.

Alicia looked at him thoughtfully. The words that came out of her mouth were not what he had expected to hear.

"Have you ever ridden a broom?"

* * *

**AN: Ah, finally got back to my story; thanks so much for your support during my long writing break! Exams were a success, so I'm really glad for getting the time to focus on schoolwork. Now it's time to focus on writing. (Btw, please forgive me for any typos in this chappie; this all came out in a rush and I didn't have much time to go over and edit it)**

**Thanks to everyone who voted on my poll! The final results for POVs was Tris, Briar and the Hogwarts Teachers in the top 3, which coincidentally were the POVs used in this chapter. Yes, it actually was a coincidence. And apparently nobody likes Ron, or at least, no one likes him enough to hear about his perspective... well, better luck next time, Ronnie :P**

**Finally, for everyone who's been waiting - including me - Tris got to use her powers!! :D ****I have just a couple things to say about this chapter:**

**I know there are no records of Fred and George having ever sent Howlers to other students, but I figure that they would definately do something like that. I mean, they'll do anything to torment others, right? And no, George wasn't flirting with Tris; he was just teasing her in an attempt to make her forgive him and Harry for being idiots. An attempt that worked, seeing as she didn't fry him or even singe him. I was never really intending to make this a romance/pairings fanfic, it's supposed to be more focussed on the plotline and their magic. So yes, they're just friends.**

**So, faithful readers, click that little green button and tell me you're happy to have me back among the writers of the virtual world. And while you're at it, tell me your opinions on Briar being invited to join the Gryffindor Quidditch team, k?**

**Smiles;**

**Lyrannae**


	19. Interlude

Interlude

Rosethorn stretched, feeling the bones in her shoulders and knees cracking from kneeling on the ground for so long. There was a time when she could work in her garden for hours on end, but ever since her brief visit into Death she was tiring more and more easily. Staying crouched down in the earth weeding her garden made her grow extremely stiff after just a couple hours. But it was spring, and in spring it was always weeding, weeding, weeding.

Rosethorn smiled ever so slightly, remembering her young apprentice Briar having said just that. It seemed like such a short time ago, but in reality it had been four years. Four years of teaching, four years of learning. They had been gone for only a short time, but already she wanted him back, if only to help her with the weeding.

She knew she could never really show how much having him around meant to her. People would talk about it, gossip spreading about her 'losing her touch'. Only Lark really understood how she felt; well, maybe Frostpine would understand too, if she ever talked to him about it. Having Briar around the house, chattering away in his street slang, complaining about the chores; it was a daily routine for her, yet one that was, unfortunately, gone for now.

Come to think of it, she thought that Niko probably felt the same way about having Tris gone. She was uncertain about this though, as they had neither seen nor heard from the roaming mage since the four had left for the mysterious place called Hogwarts. _Such a strange name,_ she mused.

Rosethorn dusted off her dark green habit and went to open the door to Discipline Cottage, planning to get a cup of water or maybe even some tea. Lark was sitting at her loom, set up in the centre of the circular room. She smiled up at her as she entered.

"Hello, Rosie; how are you doing outside?" she asked her. She paused from spinning the large wheel on her loom, running her fingers through her curly black hair.

Rosethorn sighed. "I think I might need a pillow or some kind of soft pad to kneel on," she confessed to her closet friend. "My joints don't work as well as they used to." _Dying does that to you,_ she added in her mind. Rosethorn tried not to mention her near death around Lark; the latter found it extremely hard to talk about and almost always ended up in tears at the thought of almost losing her closest friend.

Going over to the kitchen, Rosethorn went to take a cup from the shelf only to stop at the sight of the pot of leftover porridge. It brought back too many memories of having breakfast to the tune of the four children talking and squabbling as they always did.

Instead she walked straight back out, only to pause and frown at Lark.

"What are all the bandages for?" she asked her, gesturing towards the large basket that sat at the woman's feet, filled to overflowing with long strips of white cloth. "Have the Air dedicates run out already?"

"Not exactly," Lark responded, placing another bandage into the basket. "There's been a string of accidents happening, lots of broken bones and twisted ankles. So many, in fact, that they can only put temporary healing spells on the breaks and let the bones mend naturally, so as to provide help to as many victims as possible."

"Really?" Rosethorn asked curiously. Pulling over a chair, she sat down and started to fold up the bandages more neatly as she asked Lark, "What do you mean? I haven't heard of anything happening recently, it's actually been quite dull around here lately."

Lark rewound some string around the spindle and spun the wheel once more. "I only found out yesterday, when one of the Air dedicates came over to beg me to make bandages. The temple never stocked up again after the pirate attacks two years ago, and the sicknesses last summer drained them of many of their supplies. I really wish they would keep better track of things."

Rosethorn snorted. Her dislike of the Air dedicates' carelessness was not kept secret from anyone in Winding Circle.

"Now, where was I..." Lark stared thoughtfully into the distance for a moment, then shook herself and continued on.

"There have been several incidents recently in Summersea and the surrounding areas where people have momentarily left their wagons and returned to find that a wheel was loosened or an axle cut. The unfortunate part is that they normally don't find out until after they've continued their journey and their wagon has collapsed, dropping them and causing them to get injuries of varying degrees. It was originally thought to have been done by street orphans as a joke, but after studying the broken wagons it was declared to be the work of an expert. Several mages are trying to find the root of the problems; in fact, that is what Niko was called away a few days ago for, to help the less powerful mages track them down."

Lark pulled another finished length of cloth off the loom and handed it to Rosethorn, who folded it immediately. "So are they planning on alerting the public?" she asked her.

"I don't know," Lark admitted, "but it would make sense now that they know it's not just a practical joke."

Rosethorn nodded in agreement. She stood up slowly and rolled her head, getting the kinks out of her neck. "Well, I should get back to work in the garden," she said.

Lark jumped up suddenly. "Wait a second, Rosie, I just remembered something. A novice sent by Dedicate Crane was here this morning asking for you; I told him you were busy outside. He was wondering if you would be willing to pick up a shipment of young _shakkans _that were coming in on a Trader ship for him at the noon bell."

Rosethorn frowned. "Why would Crane want my help?" she asked curiously. It was hard to think of her long-time gardening rival swallowing his pride to ask for her assistance.

"The novice said that he's worried someone will damage his wagon and the _shakkans_. It sounds as though he's going to be busy working with Osprey in his greenhouse all day, and he doesn't trust any of the others with his _shakkans_. He knows that it's unlikely anyone will tamper with the wagon if you're the one with it." Lark laughed softly at that and looked up at Rosethorn, who had snorted disdainfully once again at mention of the greenhouse. "Please do it, Rosie. You don't have to do it for Crane; do it for the _shakkans_."

"Fine," Rosethorn grumbled good-naturedly as she rose to her feet. "I'd better leave now; don't want to be late to meet the Traders. See you later."

Lark waved a farewell as she spun her loom once more. Rosethorn pulled a pair of shoes on, slung her mage kit over her shoulder, and left the cottage.

She opened the gate with a loud creak, causing Little Bear to raise his head sleepily. The large white dog had been surprisingly quiet and subdued ever since the four had left. She suspected he was missing Tris the most, having been most attached to her. Animals seemed to like Tris best of the four. That thought make her wonder where Shriek, the starling Tris had saved and taken care of, was. They hadn't seen him in a while.

Rosethorn climbed into the wooden wagon and slapped the reins. She rode along the bumpy dirt path past the greenhouse and Dedicate Gorse's kitchen onto the empty country roads, and followed them all the way to Summersea. Once there, she carefully manoeuvred the busy streets as she drove towards the harbour.

There was a large Trader ship tied to the dock and Rosethorn drove the wagon right up beside it. A tall black-haired man came over to where she sat and asked her in a heavily-accented voice, "I am the _gilav _of Eighth Ship Digrami. Are you the one sent by Dedicate Crane?"

"Yes; my name is Rosethorn, Dedicate Rosethorn, and I am here to pick up a shipment of _shakkans_," she told him, tying the reins to her seat.

The man smiled, showing off a mouthful of very white teeth. "Good. He has already paid for them; we will help load them onto your wagon."

Rosethorn stepped down from the wagon and anxiously hovered as a trio of men and a woman lifted the small trees out of their ship and carried them down to where the wagon was. "Be careful," she called out sternly several times, "these _shakkans_ are special, you know; they cannot be harmed!"

The Trader man turned to grin at her. "Do not worry, _xurdin_, your trees will be in perfect shape. We safely transported them across the ocean from Namorn, after all; a few steps between our ship and your wagon will not damage them."

Within a quarter of an hour all thirteen _shakkans _had been arranged in the back of the wagon to Rosethorn's satisfaction. She nodded towards the _gilav_ in thanks and climbed back up onto her seat. She slapped the horse's reins and rode off the wooden dock.

She had just turned at the crossroads past Summersea and was heading towards Winding Circle when there was a loud rattle from somewhere beneath the wagon and the front axle snapped, sending the two front wheels rolling off into a ditch. The horse panicked and reared up on his hind legs, causing Rosethorn to go tumbling out of the wagon. "Steady, steady," she shouted as calmly as she could, leaping for the reins that were flying through the air with every movement of the horse's tossing head.

Finally, she managed to grab the reins and got the horse to calm down. She unhitched him from the wagon and tied him to a nearby tree, where he stood placidly, having already dismissed the fright caused by the wagon breaking down. Then she turned to the _shakkans_, fearing the worst.

They could have been more damaged, but it was still pretty bad. All of them had small branches snapped off and leaves torn. She picked up the nearest one, a miniature pine whose trunk was almost completely severed, and cradled it in her arms as she poured her powers into it in an attempt to save the tree. Tears rolled down her face, the effect of feeling so much pain coming from the _shakkans_.Rosethorn sat down heavily amid the wreckage and started working on fixing them up as best she could.

"Mila, who in their right mind would target these _shakkans_?" she wondered aloud. "Maybe they're trying to get the money; _shakkans_ are worth at least ten silver astrels apiece... but how could they have done it? There was no one around on the dock; at least, no one I saw."

As she switched the now-healed pine _shakkan_ in her hands for a slightly less damaged willow, she decided right then and there that she would do her very best to bring the vandals to light. They would pay for having damaged her precious trees.

* * *

Rosethorn stumbled into the greenhouse just as the sun was setting, two _shakkans_ held in each arm. She looked extremely tired, not to mention that her habit was soaked with water and dirt was smeared on her face.

Crane's apprentice Osprey leapt to her feet immediately. "Dedicate Rosethorn, whatever happened to you?" Seeing the trees in her arms, she added, "You were able to get the _shakkans_; were there any problems?"

Rosethorn snorted, although the effect was rather dimmed by the fact that her eyes were half closed. "The only thing that happened was that somebody decided they could cut up my wagon," she responded, her words slurred slightly.

"Oh my." Osprey gently took the two _shakkans_ from her and set them down on a long, sunlit table. "Where are the rest? What happened after that?"

Rosethorn sunk into Osprey's recently vacated desk chair. "I sat out on the road for a couple hours, healing the _shakkans_. It rained a bit; it was pretty miserable out there. Finally a farmer passed by. He was going to Summersea to sell a flock of sheep, but offered to turn around and take me to Winding Circle. I hitched a ride to the greenhouse with a novice working for Gorse. He helped me unload the _shakkans_ and then took off to the kitchens." Rosethorn rubbed her eyes wearily.

Osprey blinked; she had never heard Rosethorn utter so many words at one time without a sharp word being said. But Rosethorn looked absolutely exhausted; fixing up the _shakkans_ had drained her of magic and strength. Osprey beckoned towards a couple novices watching them from across the room. "Go bring the rest of the _shakkans_ in," she told them softly before heading into the back room to fetch Crane.

She opened the wooden door and poked her head in. "Dedicate Crane, Rosethorn has arrived," she said softly.

The thin, black-haired man looked up from his desk, where he was busy repairing a vine trellis. "Really? Did she bring my _shakkans_?" he inquired.

"Yes, but there was some trouble on the road. You may want to come talk to her." Perhaps seeing the look on her face, he stood up immediately and followed her to the chair where Rosethorn still sat.

"What happened?" he asked her abruptly. Rubbing her forehead wearily and smearing the dirt around even more, she told him everything she had told Osprey. As she talked, Osprey quietly left the room, returning several minutes late with a pot of hot tea.

"But how could they have done it? Did you see anyone?" Crane asked for the third time, frustrated.

"I don't know!" Rosethorn suddenly snapped. "Do you think I had time to figure it out? I was too busy fixing up the _shakkans_ to retrace my steps back to Summersea!" Osprey privately thought that the dedicate's angry tone was dulled somewhat by her hands shaking from exhaustion.

Crane seemed about to launch into another interrogation, but Osprey hastily intervened. She often seemed to get caught into the middle of Crane's arguments, although why that was she was not entirely certain. "Rosethorn, would you like me to arrange for someone to take you back to Discipline?"

The woman thought a moment, then sighed and said, "I don't want to cause any inconvenience for you, but if you're sure-"

"Oh yes," Osprey assured her, "it would be no problem at all." She walked over to Dedicate Cloudgold, one of the greenhouse librarians, and asked him to take Rosethorn back to the cottage. He was more than happy to do so and decided to visit Gorse's kitchen afterwards to bring back some food for the late workers at the greenhouse.

As the two of them left, Crane gently picked up one of the damaged _shakkans_ and touched a branch that had been bent over the wrong way. "Who would do such a thing?" he wondered aloud.

Osprey wondered the same thing. Hopefully, with several mages working to solve the mystery, the culprits would be discovered soon. She didn't need to have green magic to feel the pain of the wounded trees.

* * *

Lark was sweeping the floor when there was a knock at the wooden door. She opened it to see a tired Rosethorn leaning heavily on the kind-faced dedicate Cloudgold.

"Good evening, Dedicate Lark," he said. "I'm just bringing Rosethorn home. She had quite the adventure today, it seems."

"Oh, Rosie, what happened? Are you all right?" Lark exclaimed as she took her friend's arm and led her over to the table.

"Just used a bit too much magic, Lark," whispered Rosethorn. She laid her head on the surface of the table. "So tired..." she mumbled.

Cloudgold left, wishing Rosethorn a speedy recovery, and as soon as he was gone Lark helped Rosethorn into her room. She could hardly stand for her weariness.

"Don't try to tell me what happened now, Rosie," Lark said kindly. "Wait until you've had some rest."

"I'll tell you this much now," Rosethorn said, her eyes closed. Her words were hardly audible. "Whoever decided to break those wagons had better have a good reason for it."

Lark closed the door and sat down at the table. She wondered what had happened; it was likely that Crane would be by later, maybe he could tell her. By the looks of it, Rosethorn would be sleeping it off all morning.

She had always thought that with the four gone, things would be ordinary and routine, like before they had come into their lives. Instead it seemed as though strange things were still going to happen, although admittedly events much less strange than what had happened in their four years at Discipline. It felt odd to not have the four around, to not be able to talk with them or watch as they mastered their powers.

Lark wondered what they were up to, what the place they were in now was like. She wondered if the headmaster would send them and news of how their apprentices were doing. She knew that wherever they were, they would be having fun and learning and growing. She knew they would be getting used to the strange world they had been taken into. But at the same time, she couldn't wait for them to come home.

* * *

**A/N: This one's a bit shorter, just something to read while I finish up the next chapter. It's already about a third done, so I'll have it up in a week minimum, although it might be a bit longer. I'm going off on vacation for a few weeks afterwards, so I wanted to get the next couple chapters done before leaving.**

**Just a couple notes about Tradertalk: **

**-A **_**gilav**_** is the captain or leader of a Trader ship or caravan. **

**-The mention of 'Eighth Ship Digrami' is the name of the group of Traders; Digrami would be the last name of the Traders. (In the same way, Daja's family were in Tenth Ship Kisubo.) **

**-And finally, a **_**xurdin **_**is a non-Trader mage; likewise, a **_**mimander**_** is a Trader mage.**

**Hope you liked this one.. and hopefully the info about Emelan, Winding Circle and Summersea is accurate. I had a hard time finding maps and facts about the layout and whatnot; if you see anything out of place, let me know and I'll try to fix it up so that it makes more sense.**

**On a completely unrelated note, does anyone know if it snows in Winding Circle/Emelan?**

**~Lyrannae**


	20. Chapter 18

Chapter 18 - More Wands, Broomsticks and Other Things

The Forest. To most, it must have seemed a dreary place. Dark, cold, forbidding. But to me, to my family, it was home. Safe, well-known, comfortable.

We stood together in a large group; even with my eyes closed, I could feel the others around me, sense the presence of their minds. Two youngsters frolicked in the white snow at our feet, dashing between the maze of black legs that made up my family. They tossed their short manes as they chased each other, playfully butting heads.

Brushing snow off a branch, I took a mouthful of leaves. The sour juices flooded my mouth and I forced myself to chew rather than spitting the leaves out. I could feel the discontentment of my family as they too ate the tough grasses and sour leaves.

We continued on our slow journey through the Forest, slipping between the wide trees. Our hooves only made the slightest sound as they crunched through the thin, hardened layer of snow; apart from that, our movement was silent. Sometimes I would turn to look behind me only to see no one there, but then a pair of gleaming white eyes would blink out at me from the darkness and the face of one of my family would emerge. We had been this way many times; I remember first walking these paths as a newborn, stumbling awkwardly along on my disproportionally long legs. Many years of walking and waiting had committed each twist of the path, each hidden corner, to perfect memory.

As I turned to follow my sister down the faint path, I heard something that sounded strangely like a bird's cry. Swivelling my ears, I was able to bring the sound into sharper focus, and I recognized it. It was a wild, shrieking cry; only one creature in the Forest made that sound.

The rest of my family paused as well, the tips of their ears twitching as they listened. Even the two youngsters stopped their play, confused, as their dam bent her head down to them and softly told them what The Sound meant.

I inhaled sharply, the smells of the Forest mixing in my nostrils with the Tall-Man's scent, and something else - the scent of blood. It tickled my nostrils and caused saliva to pool in my mouth.

Blood. Where there was blood, there was meat. Food.

The cry was made again but I was already on my way, galloping off back the way we came, my hooves kicking up snow and sending it swirling behind me. I could sense the amusement of the elders as several others followed me, the two youngsters being restrained by their dam.

We entered a thicker region of the Forest, a place where the trees were so close together that no snow could reach the ground. The Tall-Man's scent was much stronger now. Slowing to a walk, I stepped out from between two old yew trees and saw him. Gathered around him was a group of youngsters, a few of which I recognized from pulling their wheeled boxes up the long path to the Stone Nest. There was Black-Haired, and Silver-Eyes, and Spotted-Face. There was also Tree-Scent, the new male, and his partner Golden-Hair, and many others beside.

Feeling a fly behind me, I flicked my tail and then turned my attention to the large pile of raw meat sitting in front of Tall-Man. Stepping over to it, I bent my head and tore a strip off. The delicious, warm taste filled my mouth as my sharp teeth easily bit through the tough meat. Blood ran down my throat, washing out the bitter taste lest over from the leaves. Perhaps sensing my pleasure, my sister stepped into the clearing as well. She folded in her huge wings before joining me in eating.

Tall-Man started talking in their rough human tongue. Curious to know what he was saying, I touched his mind just in time to make out an image of those in the class who could see us raisings their hands. Sure enough, a moment later 5 of the youngsters had put their hands in the air. That would explain why the rest of them were staring blankly into the trees.

Tall-Man nodded to Black-Haired. His mind became sad, and I could see two grown people that looked very much like the youngster in his memories. He had a sense of understanding in his mind as he spoke kindly to the youngster, referring to him as 'Hairy'.

'Hairy'... was that the youngster's name? Very well, then I shall combine the two and call him Black-Hairy.

A female youngster I didn't know by name made a little shrieking noise. I reached out towards her mind, and say in it an image of strips of meat being torn off the carcass and vanishing with no evidence of living creatures. A singly words echoed in her mind just as Tall-Man said it out loud. _Thestrals._ Now she knows who we are... but to my surprised, she seemed even more panicked. Strange humans.

As two more of my family came out of the trees beside her, she shook with fright and held tightly onto the closest tree, as though somehow it could protect her from us. I could feel my family's amusement at their reactions to us.

A woman entered into the clearing as well. It was Green -Hat; I recognized her from the box-pulling-day. There was a mean sense of delight in her mind as she spoke to Tall-Man, who was distracted and confused by her.

Her appearance caused half the class to emit feelings of humour and happiness, while the other half felt angry and annoyed. The feelings of anger were most strong in Brown-Wavy-Hair.

Tall-Man patted my side, and I turned to face him and the youngsters. He introduced me to them by what I suppose you could call my human name: Tenebrus. Partway through his introduction, Green-Hat cut across what he was saying, adding her own words. I was really starting to dislike Green-Hat; she was being mean to the Tall-Man, whom I had known since birth and whom had raised me to like humans. I wanted to bit her. To restrain myself from this urge, I cut myself off from all of their minds and concentrated on eating.

Finally Green-Hat left, and the youngsters soon followed her out of the Forest. Tall-Man stayed behind for a bit, giving each of us a pat and telling us we had been very good, before he too left.

Having striped off all the meat, the four of us returned to the rest of our family, leaving only a pile of bones to mark our presence in the clearing.

All in all, it had been an interesting morning.

* * *

December arrived, bringing with it swirling white snow, cloud-covered skies, and an appropriate increase in restlessness among the students. The fifth-years in particular were being given a positive avalanche of homework, and were often the only students studying in the library during free periods.

Out of the four exchange students, Briar was having the hardest time staying on task. He finally compromised by going outside in the morning and staying in the common room during the evenings, slowly chipping away at the homework that sat at the foot of his bed. Of course, this plan was interrupted frequently by the Weasley twins.

After Briar's success with fixing their Nosebleed Nougat, Fred and George had asked him to help them create and improve on their other plans. Among the variety of devices was one they referred to as Extendable Ears. Briar had been able to work his magic into the cotton and other materials the twins had used to make them to give them a more vinelike quality. His magic had also somehow affected them to the extent that the Ears were now able to pass through Impertuable Charms and be unaffected by them. The three of them had been testing the Ears with Lee one night when they found this out. As Fred had delightedly exclaimed, "Well, mate, I've got no idea what you did to them but now they don't just wiggle like worms along the floor, they can climb straight up the wall too. And even if they still can be detected by sensory enchantments, now they can get past blocking charms, which means much more options for us!"

On this particular Saturday, Briar was outside with his foster-sisters enjoying the fresh air.

"I've never seen anything quite like it," Tris admitted, scooping up a handful of the fluffy white snow. A gust of wind blew it from her hands, and she watched it spin away through the air as she wound her scarf more tightly around her neck.

"Really? Doesn't it snow where you come from?" Luna asked her interestedly, the yellow radishes hanging from her ears swinging as she turned around from watching a group of third-years skating across the frozen lake.

"No," Tris told her. "It's a hotter country; it rains every now and then, and I made it hail a couple times, but no snow."

Luna nodded at her hail comment without any questions about it. Briar had to admit, it found it amazing that she could just accept them, oddities and all. It might have had something to do with the fact that she was a bit eccentric as well and could relate to Tris; in a sense, at least.

He turned his attention back to Daja. "Alright, Daj', it's just one foot at a time, see? You just glide across the ice."

The black girl shook her head. 'It's not that easy," she said drily. "Can we just stick to snowball fights?"

"No, you've got to get this. You can't just give up-"

"Did someone say snowball fight?"

A large lump of snow came flying out of the air and hit Briar in the face, cutting off his words. He spit the snow out of his mouth and turned to glare towards the cackling twins. "You want a fight? You got it," he said dangerously, bending to pack a snowball. He distinctly heard Daja give a sigh of relief as she undid the pair of borrowed skates and handed them back to her friend Hannah.

Sandry laughed and jumped out of the way as Briar leaped for the twins. He jumped onto Fred, pushing him into the ground. The three boys rolled around on the cold ground, pushing each other and flinging wet clumps of snow into the air. George slipped snow down Briar's coat when he wasn't looking, and Briar jumped at the feeling of water dripping down his back. He tackled George around the waist and together the two of them rolled down the hill.

Everyone was laughing and throwing snow. Sandry and Daja hauled Tris to her feet, taking her away from her magazine, and brought her into the snow fight as well. Even Luna joined in, bewitching snowballs to soar through the air until her spells lost momentum and they came crashing down onto the heads of various students. Seeing this, Fred too pulled out his wand and twitched it, causing a large lump of snow to fly straight up to the window of the Griffindor common room and hit the glass with a bang.

The window slammed open, and Ron's face appeared at it. "OI!" he shouted. "I am a Prefect, and if one more snowball hits this window-"

Fred lazily twitched his wand again, and another snowball flew up, hitting Ron in the face. He withdrew from the window with a curse and slammed it shut. Fred watched the window for a moment, an evil look in his eyes, before shaking his head and returning to the snow fight.

It wasn't until George himself went flying up and hung upside-down in midair that the snow fight came to a halt. Ginny Weasley strode forward, and with a flick of her wand brought her brother back down. "Fred, George, cut it out," she ordered, and to Briar's surprise they listened to her. She turned and addressed him. "Briar, Angelina told me to fetch you. The Quidditch tryouts are starting, down at the pitch."

"Oh, right," he exclaimed. Sandry gave him a hand, helping pull him out of the snow. He tried to brush the snow off his coat, and with an amused sigh she flapped her hand and the snow slid off it. Briar looked up at her. "Want to come watch?" he asked her hopefully.

Sandry hesitated, her blue eyes reluctant. "I don't know."

"C'mon, Sandry, it'll be perfectly safe, I promise."

"Okay, fine, I'll come. But you better be right," she warned him before turning to Daja. "Sorry, but I guess I'll have to abandon you for a bit."

"Actually, I'll come too," Daja said. She waved to Hannah and Susan, who were doing figure eights on the frozen lake. "Tris, are you coming?"

"No thanks," the redhead said, not looking up from her handful of snow. "I think I'll try binding this into my braids. Rain makes me go all frizzy, but snow isn't just moisture, it's got some solid bits too; it just might work..." She trailed off, staring at the white flakes gathering in her hand as she settled herself more comfortably on the ground.

"Good luck, Coppercurls. We'll see you later," Briar called over his shoulder to her as they left. Tris nodded her head vaguely in his direction, all her attention focussed on the snow piled in front of her.

Ginny led the way as they walked off towards the Quidditch pitch. A cluster of both boys and girls of varying ages were gathered around the far goalhoops. As the four drew closer, Briar could see the three Chasers watching as a pair of boys that looked to be about their age took on the Bludgers. One of the boys swung his bat wildly in an attempt to hit a Bludger sailing towards him and successfully hit it away, but neither he nor his partner were watching the second Bludger and it hit him in the back. The boy fell forwards over his broom, but held onto the handle as he drifted towards the ground.

Briar felt Sandry tremble slightly behind him. "It's all right," he said to her, putting his arm around her shoulders, "they only go after people on the pitch."

"I know, but it's a dreadfully violent game; I can't imagine why you want to play it!" She shook her head and sighed as they came up beside Angelina.

"Great try, you guys," Angelina called out towards the two boys. One of them supported his injured friend as he staggered across the pitch. "Leesh, you'd better take Creevy to the hospital wing." She turned around to face the four standing behind her and smiled at Briar. "Great, Ginny found you." She took a heavy, wooden bat from Alicia, who was just walking past with the fourth-year Creevy, and handed it to him. "Grab one of the spare brooms; you'll try out with Kirke." Jerking her thumb over her shoulder, she turned her attention back to the pitch, watching the next pair.

As Daja and Sandry settled themselves on the benches surrounding the pitch, Briar went over to a large pile of school brooms that sat nearby. Having watched several first-year broom flying lessons through the windows of the common-room, he didn't even bother with searching through the pile to find a broom with the straightest handle or most streamlined tail. Instead, he simply held his hand over the pile and firmly said, "Up."

A couple of the brooms rolled over and one rose partially off the ground, but one in the middle of the pile shot up at once into his hands. The handle was twisted and knobbly, and the tail rather resembled a bush, but it had a nice feel to it; Briar couldn't really explain it.

Since he had never been on a broom before, or for that matter even been any higher in the air than his dorm at the top of the Griffindor tower, Briar carefully observed the pair on the pitch before swinging his leg over the broom and mounting it. He was about to go for a practise lap around the field when Angelina called over to them. "Moss and Kirke, you're up!"

"My name's _Briar_," he shouted back to her before gingerly kicking off from the ground. Despite its age and appearance, his broom shot off smoothly into the sky.

The feeling of flying, surrounded by air and wind and sky, was amazing. Here, doing this, Briar could understand why Tris loved the wind and being high up in the air.... although, a part of him wished he was still on the ground, with green things and dirt and the sense of the earth all around him. He was helped by the wooden broom in his hands; though it was dead wood, the magic in its core was strong enough that it felt to him as living as any plant.

Briar flew one-handed, finding it easy to hold onto the bat and keep his balance at the same time. He pulled up to Kirke, a blonde third-year boy who was anxiously hovering in midair. He had his bat tucked under his right arm, keeping his hands free to grip his broom tightly. His knuckles were completely white.

"Loosen up a bit," Briar suggested to him, already at ease with the feeling of weightlessness.

Kirke looked up at him and suddenly shrieked, "Bludger!" He fumbled for his bat and almost dropped it, but managed to catch it without falling off his broom.

Following the direction of the boy's eyes, and ignoring Sandry's panicked voice in his head, Briar shifted his grip on the bat and swung his arm around behind him. Bludger and Bat connected with a loud crack, and Briar watched with a satisfied smiled as the large ball went flying across the field and through the middle goalhoop on the other side of the pitch.

That smile quickly turned into a smirk as his tryout continued. Briar knew he was getting cocky, but he couldn't resist pulling off stunts, enjoying the gasps echoing up from below him on the pitch. He did barrel rolls and two-handed hits, often guiding his broom with only his knees. At one point, he managed to save Kirke from being hit only by flinging his bat through the air to connect with the Bludger. The easily-startled Kirke somehow managed to catch Briar's bat before it fell to the ground.

"Thanks," he gasped as he clumsily tossed Briar the bat. "My name's Andrew by the way." He gripped his bat tightly and swung it at the Bludger as it came back, successfully hitting it.

Briar grinned. "Good job, kid," he called as he pulled a tight turn and switched the bat to his other hand.

_Sandry's practically ripping my arm off,_ Daja's calm voice informed him.

_She needs to relax. That's why I blocked her off._

_Well, she wants me to tell you that you're acting like an idiot and that she's not watering your _shakkan_ if you end up in the hospital wing._

_What? She wouldn't._ Briar sighed mentally as he prepared to hit the other Bludger. _Well, what can I say? I love to show off._

_And don't we all know it?_ Daja grinned.

Angelina's shrill whistle interrupted their mental conversation. Seeing the Bludgers temporarily pausing in midair, Briar and his partner turned their brooms around and headed for the ground. Briar resisted the urge to go into a dive, instead keeping pace with the rather slower Andrew Kirke as they steadily reduced their height.

"Great job, you two," Angelina told them, a look of incredulity in her eyes as she faced Briar. "Mos-I mean, Briar, are you sure you've never been on a broom before? You looked as though you've been flying your whole life."

"Nope, it's my first time," Briar replied as he got off his broom.

"Really? Then you must be a natural." Whirling about, she turned to face the group who had tried out for Beater. "Okay you guys, you all flew splendidly but of course I can only pick tow of you." She reeled this off as though she had said it a thousand times, which, being Captain, she probably had. And I've picked... Briar Moss and Jack Sloper."

There was a halfhearted round of applauses, and as the majority of the group left, Angelina once again turned to Briar. "It's time for the Seeker tryouts; can you help me round up the Bludgers?"

"Sure," Briar said with a shrug. "But, erm, how exactly do we do that?"

Angelina tossed her clipboard aside and stepped deliberately onto the pitch. "Like this. Stand up here beside me." He placed his broom and bat on the ground and walked onto the pitch as well. "Okay, now... here they come. Get ready to be hit." She stared up at the sky, her eyes following the two Bludgers.

Briar tensed and bent his knees. As one of the Bludgers veered off towards him, he crouched down, preparing for the impact. The Bludger hit him in the stomach, and he exhaled sharply. He wrapped his arms tightly around it and flung himself onto the ground, pinning it down. Angelina had already caught hers; she draped the large box over and flipped the lid open. Carefully he lifted the Bludger up and then slammed it into the empty space where it was stored before locking it in place.

Daja came over, watching the Bludgers curiously as they thrashed about in the box. Seeming not to notice what she was doing, she placed one of her fingers on top of the Bludger, staring thoughtfully at it before backing off and returning to where Sandry was waiting. Briar shrugged at Angelina, who was watching Daja with a baffled expression on her face, and then he too went over to where his sisters stood.

"Oh, Briar," Katie said quickly as he went to leave, "can you wait here just a few minutes? Ange is going to test the Seekers and then we'll take you three into the changing rooms to get you your robes."

"Yes, you stay, Briar," Sandry said to him. "We'll meet you at dinnertime."

He waved to them and then sat down in the grass next to Jack Sloper, the boy who had been trying out with the unfortunate Creevy, to watch the Seeker tryouts. Since there were only three students interested in playing Seeker, Angelina had them all try out at once. All three went onto the pitch and then Angelina released what she called a practise Snitch. Once the Snitch was caught, the player would bring it back to her and she would carry the winged ball further down the pitch before releasing it again.

Once they had done five rounds of this, Angelina stopped them and declared Ginny the new Griffindor Seeker. Briar thought she had definitely been the best at both flying and catching the Snitch. Besides having outflown both of the other fourth-years, she had caught the Snitch three times and had been first to see it every time.

"Good job," Briar congratulated her as she came over to put the Snitch away.

She smiled and tucked her red hair behind her ear. "Thanks. I'm so excited to be play Quidditch for real; my brothers never let me play with them at home when they were practising."

"How did you get to be so good, then?"

Ginny leaned closer and whispered conspiratorially, "Don't tell Fred and George, but I've been breaking into our broom shed and taking turns to ride each of their brooms since I Was six years old." She paused to slide the Snitch into its compartment while Katie grinned. "Besides, it's like what Angelina said to you; we're both naturals at it."

Angelina and Alicia came over to them. "Congratulations, you three. You're now official members of the Griffindor Quidditch Team. Come down to the changing rooms and we'll fit you out with robes."

Briar, Jack and Ginny followed the three older Chasers down the pitch to a small door that led to the changing rooms. Once there, Alicia led him over to one to the lockers. She opened it and pulled out a bundle of red material.

"Okay, Briar, these are Fred's robes but I'm guessing that you'll be able to fit into them, you're almost as tall as him and George." She handed him the robe and he put it on while she rummaged about in the locker, taking out wrist guards and a pair of large leather boots. "I didn't get to watch you try out, but Katie said you seemed pretty good. Fred and George were amazing; they were more like human Bludgers than anything else. I'm going to miss playing with them." She sighed and tossed a bundle of old parchment into a trash can. "Hang on a second... here it is!"

Briar peered over her shoulder into the locker. Fred's robes fit him very well; there was only had a couple inches of material dragging on the ground. "What is it?"

She pulled out a battered book. "It's his copy of the Beater's Bible. You'll have to read this, it's written especially for Beaters. We'll need to get you a copy of Quidditch through the Ages too, it's full of all this information on the game and its history; maybe Harry can lend you his copy, there's always a waiting list at the library for it..."

He flipped the book open. Sure enough, Fred's name was scrawled across the inside cover. Many pages had their corners flipped down, as though to draw attention to them, and there were handwritten notes along the margins of nearly every page. Some of the notes were in reference to the book itself; others were simply random comments, doodles, or games of Hangman.

Briar started to read the Beater's Bible while Alicia used her wand to hem up the edges of the robes. He was extremely excited to play Quidditch; he couldn't wait for their first practise.

* * *

Tris stormed into the school, quite literally; clouds of snow and gusts of wind swirled around her with every step she took. The snow had been surprisingly uncooperative with being bound into her braids; it had made her hair go all frizzy and had even undone several of the small braids that hung around her face.

She scowled at a pair of first-years who were quite openly staring at her and they scampered off down the hall. Annoyed, Tris shoved her glasses up higher on her nose; the moisture dripping from her hair was making them fall down.

Someone poked her from behind, and Tris whirled about angrily, her hands already full of sparks from her undone braids. When she saw it was Fred and George, she calmed down, but only a bit.

"What do you want?" she grumbled, turning to continue walking.

George kept pace with her easily. "One day your face will freeze like that, you know," he informed her.

She snorted. 'It's a physical impossibility. Again, what do you want?"

Behind her, Fred slowed down. "Maybe we should leave her alone, bro."

"Why?"

"Hate to break it to you, but her hands are, like, full of fire. I don't want that coming my way any time soon."

"I'm not mad at you," Tris told him wearily. "I'm just holding it because the snow undid my braids, and now I've got to comb them out and re-braid them so that everything stays in place."

"Oh." Fred came to walk on her other side. "In that case, can I touch it?"

She stared at him. "It's lightning." When he stared back at her just as seriously, she sighed and held her hand out. "Knock yourself out."

He grinned and reached out towards the fire flickering in her palm. Just as he was about to touch it, some of the sparks grouped together and formed a miniature lightning bolt, which leaped out and struck his palm.

George laughed as his twin brother jumped. "Your hair is sticking straight up, mate," he told him.

Fred brushed the soot off his palm. "That was certainly interesting." He looked at her wistfully. "Can you hit me with a big one? Like the ones you shot into the pitch at our last match?"

Tris glared at him. "Do you have a death wish?"

"Neither of us are suicidal, my dear. Are you going anywhere for the winter break?" George asked, effortlessly changing the subject.

"No. We're staying at Hogwarts. It's not like we can go home or anything." Tris sighed, picturing Winding Circle in her mind. If she was there right now, she would go up onto the roof of Discipline and watch storms being born. Or maybe she'd even go up onto the stone walls, where the wind would blow her hair and dress, where she could see for miles, where it felt like she was on top of the world.

"That's too bad," George said sympathetically, breaking into her thoughts. "Mom wanted us to invite you all; she thought it'd be a nice thing to do..."

"...but she didn't realize there were four of you, and our house is kind of small, so she didn't," Fred said, finishing his brother's sentence. "She's probably still getting you lot gifts, though."

"She sounds like a nice person," Tris commented, thinking bitterly of her own parents, too scared of her to keep her.

"Yeah, she's the best, as long as you're not sneaking out of the house to drive your dad's flying car halfway across the country overnight. That ticks her off a bit. So does making plans for a joke shop." Fred and George grinned at the same time, looking even more identical than usual. "But it's not like we're going to stop; it's too much fun. We've been selling our Skiving Snackboxes at school; everyone seems to want them, we've already made about thirty Galleons, and just wait till we get your help with the fireworks!"

"That reminds me, we'll have to give you a share of the profits. We have to work out a few ingredients with Briar, find out what's flammable and what's not, and then we'll arrange some time to meet with you so that you can add your own magic into it." George looked at her hands curiously. "Doesn't it burn you?"

"No, I'm resistant."

"Cool. Anyhoo, we've gotta run. Lots to do before the last DA meeting tonight!" The twins took off down a side corridor.

Tris shook her head and walked up one of the winding staircases to the Ravenclaw Tower. Knocking on the door, she answered its question _("What is a dragon without its flame?") _and entered the common-room. She went upstairs to the dorm where she stayed with the other fifth-year girls and grabbed a fabric bag filled with enchanted ribbons out of her trunk before sitting down on the floor next to one of the windows. Keeping an eye on the door, Tris pulled her wand out of the pocket of her coat and waved it at her bed, repeating the same spell her winds had let her overhear Professor McGonagall using the day before as she was walking to the Transfiguration classroom.

Spreading out her other hand, she cautiously placed her handful of sparks on the bed and watched it for a moment. Satisfied that the spell had effectively made the bed fireproof, she focussed her attention on her powers as she completely undid the smaller braids around her face. She brushed her hair out and then took her sparks once more and rewove them into her hair, tying the end of the braid with one of her special ribbons.

It took Tris almost an hour to undo each of her braids, store the power elsewhere in the room, and then weave them back in. She had just removed the rest of her tidal forces from the wooden chair she had hastily shoved them into and was carefully winding them back in when the door opened and Mandy came running in. Not noticing her, the brown-haired girl almost tripped over Tris' feet before finally looking towards the window and gasping.

"Oh, Tris, sorry, I didn't see you there! What are you doing?" she asked her curiously.

"Fixing my hair," Tris said shortly as she looped a ribbon around her last braid. "There, now I'm done."

"You should leave your hair down sometime, it's such a pretty colour," Mandy commented.

Tris shifted uncomfortably, and then realized that she was still sitting and got to her feet. "Well, I can't... I don't really know how to explain it, but it wouldn't be good if I just undid them all."

"Oh, okay, never mind then," Mandy said, looking slightly confused. "Are you coming down for dinner?"

Tris looked at the clock, surprised. "Yeah, I am; I didn't realize what time it was."

The other girl grinned. "I know; it's so easy to get distracted, especially with all the snow! I've been outside all day, only came in for lunch. Between the snow and the DA meeting tonight, I don't know how I'm ever going to finish the essay Snape set us to do. At least it's not due for a couple days, it's so confusing. Considering how smart you are, this is probably a really strange question to ask, but did you find it hard?"

"Actually, I did find a few of the questions difficult to answer, seeing as the majority of them referred to places on Earth that I've never heard of," Tris replied. "I found this really helpful book in the library though, it's called _Asiatic Anti-Venoms_. I was going to return it after dinner, but you can borrow it if you want."

"Really? Thanks so much! I'll return it when I'm done." Mandy took the book from her and was about to toss it onto her bed when she paused and added thoughtfully, "Maybe I'll bring it with me, I can start looking up the information I need in it during dinner."

Tris and Mandy went down to the Great Hall together. It was already packed with students; Tris barely managed to squeeze into a seat next to Luna.

"Hello, Tris," Luna said, peering up at her over the top of her magazine. "How did your experiment with the snow go?"

"Not that good," Tris admitted. "My hair was a mess; it took me some time to straighten it out."

"That's too bad. But this should cheer you up; my father's told me that I can invite you to stay at our house for the holidays! If you're able to, of course." Luna looked at Tris happily. "He was so happy to hear that I've made another friend that he cleaned out the attic all day yesterday in case you want to come."

Tris grinned. "That would be a lot of fun, Luna. I'll just have to check with my siblings first though, I don't want them to feel left out of anything."

"No problem, you just have to let me know before I leave. My father's very open to having houseguests. He loves showing people our Dirigible Plums; we've just figured out how to grow them outside."

Luna told Tris all about her family and their house as they ate dinner. By the end of the meal, Tris felt that she knew everything about them.

After dinner, Tris went straight to the enchanted room. Harry had found out from a friend of his who was one of the house-elves that it was called the Room of Requirement. She walked three times in front of it so that the door appeared and she could go inside.

At first, she didn't recognize it. When the torches burst into flame, she saw that there were all sorts of decorations adorning the walls and ceiling. Leafy vines of holly was draped around the torches, golden streamers hung from the ceiling, and ornaments with pictures of Harry's face were hung everywhere.

Tris walked around the large room and, seeing that she was the first one there, she pulled a thick book titled _The Dark Arts Outsmarted_ out of one of the long bookshelves and sat down on a thick pillow to read it. She was just reading a rather interesting bit about the Unforgiveable Curses when the door opened and Harry walked in.

He paused in the middle of the doorway, gaping at the decorations. Tris marked her page in the book with a piece of parchment she found in her pocket and put it away before coming up to stand beside him.

"Did you put these up?" she asked him, gesturing around the room.

Harry stared at her. "No. Maybe it was Dobby."

"Dobby?"

"The house-elf." He reached up and tore off one of the golden ornaments. Turning it over, he groaned. "Of course it was him. Who else would put up baubles with pictures of me on them?"

Tris glanced at the one in his hands and saw the words, _Have A Very Harry Christmas!_ printed on the back. "It does have a nice ring to it," she commented.

Harry looked at her, a pleading look in his eyes. "Help me get them all down?" he asked her.

She grinned. "Of course I'll help."

The two of them rushed through the room taking down the golden ornaments. Harry tore them off easily; his hands just scraped the top of the ceiling when he went up on his toes. Tris was a bit shorter, and so she replied on her winds to pull them down for her. They had just gotten the last one off when there was a noise at the door and Luna came in. Harry went to greet her while Tris stuffed the pile of trinkets between the cushions of the couch.

"Hello, Harry," Luna said distantly as she looked around the room. "These are nice, did you put them up?" she asked, waving her hand towards the holly and streamers.

"No," said Harry, "it was Dobby the house-elf."

She gazed around and then said dreamily, "Mistletoe," and pointed at a small plant hanging right above Harry's head. He jumped out from under it immediately.

"Good thinking," Luna said seriously, "it's probably full of-"

"-Nargles," Tris cut in, grinning at Luna as she came up to stand beside them.

"Oh, hello, Tris, when did you get here?"

"A little while ago; I was just helping Harry tidy up a bit."

Harry grinned in an embarrassed manner as he turned to look over the room; probably making sure, Tris thought, that they hadn't missed anything.

The door opened again and six people entered the room. They were all out of breath and looking extremely cold, with snow caked onto their cloaks.

Angelina pulled off her cloak and threw it into a corner. "Well," she remarked to Harry, "we've replaced you."

"Replaced me?" Harry asked, looked blankly at her.

"You and Fred and George," she responded impatiently.

"Oh, right. Who'd you get?"

"For Seeker, we've got Ginny Weasley. She's not as good as you, of course, but seeing as we can't have you..." She shot him a very dirty look as she sat down on a large pillow with Katie and Alicia.

"And what about the Beaters?"

"Well, we've got a fourth-year, Jack Sloper. He's nothing compared with Fred and George, but way better than the rest of the idiots who showed up. And we've also got Briar." She jerked a thumb towards the doorway, where Briar was helping Sandry straighten up the pile of cloaks that had already begun to gather on the floor.

Katie cut in eagerly. "He's brilliant, practically one of the twins. He was pulling all kinds of stunts; too bad you couldn't be there to see him! I wouldn't be surprised if we win the next match because of him and Ginny."

Tris glanced over towards the corner. Briar, Sandry and Daja came over to join them, sitting down next to her.

"Talking about me?" Briar inquired, leaning back against the cushions.

"Don't let it go to your head," Daja said with a grin. "You've got to prove yourself first, thief-boy."

"Yeah, yeah." He raked his fingers through his thick black hair, causing snowflakes to fall out of his hair onto Tris, who was now regretting having sat down behind him. She pushed him off of her cushion and he laughingly complied, moving over next to Sandry.

The door opened much more frequently now, and within five minutes everyone was assembled in the room. Harry looked around the room to make sure everyone was there before rising to his feet, although Tris privately thought that he may have done that in order to escape the fiercely resentful looks Angelina was directing towards him.

"Ok, everyone," he called, halting all conversations in the room as everyone turned to face him. "I thought that this evening we should just go over the things we've done so far, because it's the last meeting before the holidays and there's really no point starting anything new right before a three-week break-"

"We're not doing anything new?" said Zacharias Smith in a disgruntled, carrying whisper. "If I'd known that, I wouldn't have come."

"We're all really sorry Harry didn't tell you, then," Fred said loudly.

Briar snickered and added, "Yeah, Smith, maybe you should get yourself a calendar for Christmas to keep you updated on everything. It could replace the pocketwatch I was going to get you."

"Briar!" hissed Sandry, poking him.

He looked up at her innocently. "He had it coming," he whispered to her.

Tris rolled her eyes. After four years, the constant arguments between her siblings were becoming somewhat annoying. Maybe she would take Luna up on her offer, after all.

"We can practise in pairs," Harry continued. "We'll start with the Impediment Jinx, for ten minutes, then we can get move the cushions and try Stunning again."

Everyone divided up obediently. It's amazing, Tris thought as she and Luna moved to an empty spot in the room, how over the course of three months they had gone from a cluster of awkward and disordered teenagers to a well-organised group of students. It was all because of Harry, really. He had taught them how to use spells, not just learn about them. He was as good a teacher as they had any day.

Luna pointed her wand at Tris, and with a flick of her wand she cried, "_Impedimenta!_" Tris froze, unable to move anything but her eyes. Luna's usually vague demeanour seemed to leave her when she was casting spells, she mused. Her eyes became focussed and her voice was sharper.

After a short period of time, Tris was able to move again. This time, it was she who said the spell and froze her partner. While Luna was frozen, Tris looked about the room. Sandry and Daja were cooperating quite well, both of equal talent with this particular spell. Briar was partnered with Lee Jordan, and the two of them seemed to take it as more of a challenge to see who could attack the other one first, rather than taking turns, but they were both doing remarkably well.

She and Luna continued to switch off for about ten minutes, after which Harry blew his whistle and the group organized themselves for practising Stunning. Because of their limited space, half the group watched while the other half was Stunned, switching sides after a while.

The group was at the point where many of them enjoying practising Stunning. Tris was one of them. While she didn't like falling into the cushions and having her breath knocked out of her, she did like the feeling of weightlessness as the spell flung her through the air. The Weasley twins both had fun with it, and often betted with each other on how many times they would spin through the air before hitting the floor. Briar enjoyed it too, although being thrown to the ground didn't seem to affect him as much as it did the others; he was often bouncing to his feet only three or four seconds after falling. That was probably the effect of living and fighting in the streets, Tris decided.

At the end of the hour, Harry called a halt to the practising.

"You're all getting really good," he said, beaming at them all. He looked immensely proud of the group, and his pride filled each of the students and made them prouder of their success. "When we get back from holidays we can start doing some of the big stuff, maybe even Patronuses."

Everyone in the room turned to whisper in excitement. _What are Patronuses?_ Sandry asked in her mind; her mental voice was confused.

_I read about them in one of my texts. A Patronus is like a shield; it protects you from evil creatures called Dementors. _Sensing her next question, Tris added, _they take away happiness and project fear; if you get too close, they can suck out your soul._

_Wouldn't want to come across that, _Briar commented, having listened in.

_No, _all three girls chorused.

_What's this about Luna inviting you somewhere?_ Daja inquired; apparently, Tris thought, she had overheard their conversation at dinner.

_She's asked me to come home with her over the holidays. I haven't decided yet._

_You should go!_ Sandry urged. _She's really nice._

_But I don't really want to leave you all behind. I mean, I might say I want to sometimes, but I don't really._

_Well, think about it._

Slowly, the room began to clear as people left, many of them pausing to wish Harry and each other a 'Merry Christmas'. Tris walked out with her siblings; they had a brief moment to talk with each other, but soon were spilt up as Sandry and Briar turned off down the hall to the Griffindor common-room, which was located on the seventh floor, the same as the Room of Requirement. Daja and Tris continued down several flights of stairs to the fifth, where Tris left her and headed for the winding staircase that led to the base of the Ravenclaw tower. Along the way she thought about how little time the four had to be together. Their classes divided them up by House, and even at meals they had to sit separately.

Back at the common-room, Tris hurried up to her dorm. Realizing that she was not at all tired, she decided to do a bit of meditation before getting ready for bed. She sat cross-legged on the floor by the window where she had sat previously and traced a line across the wood with her fingers, letting the magic form an invisible barrier around her. Satisfied with her protections, Tris closed her eyes, finding it easy to slip into the special breathing pattern.

When she finally opened her eyes, it was to see that the rest of the girls had come in while she was meditating. Padma Patil was openly staring at her, and noticing that Tris' eyes were now opened, reddened slightly but continued to watch her. "What were you doing?" she asked her. "You were just sitting there, perfectly still. I was watching you for half and hour and you didn't even move, and Mandy said you were like that when she got in earlier."

"I was meditating," Tris explained. The strange sense of peace that swept over her after being immersed in her powers seemed to make it easier for her to talk with the other girls. "It's a thing mages do, where I come from. It helps to, well, kind of to control your magic. It also helps us relax. I was wide awake when I came upstairs; I knew that it'd be impossible for me to sleep."

Padma rolled over onto her back. "I know how you feel; I'm really looking forward to the holidays. And when we come back, Harry will teach us how to make Patronuses! It's so exciting."

A sixth-year girl named Marietta came running into the room. "I don't know what to do," she cried, sounding frantic. "Cho stayed behind with Harry for a bit, and now she's just got back and she's crying! She won't tell me what it is, she's just sitting there..."

The three fifth-years looked at each other, and then jumped up and followed Marietta to one of the other girls' dorms. Cho and several older girls were there, sitting on one of the beds.

"What's the matter?" Mandy asked her, but Cho didn't even look up. She just buried her head in her hands and kept crying.

"Cho, dear, calm down. Tell us what's the matter; we can help you," one of the other girls urged her, putting her arm around Cho's shoulders.

Cho shook her head. Her voice was muffled by her hands.

"What was that?" another girl asked.

Something compelled Tris to bend down in front of her. "Calm down, it's okay," she whispered, frantically thinking to herself, _what would Sandry do??_ She was much better suited to deal with this type of situation. Unable to think of anything else to say, she noticed that Cho was breathing quite heavily from crying; her breaths were gasping and irregular. Hesitantly she touched the older girl's shoulder and repeated, "Calm down; breathe slowly. Inhale... hold... exhale..." Tris repeated this rhythm until the girl began to follow it. With a silent apology to Niko, she didn't count all the way to seven between her words, thinking that Cho wouldn't be used to holding her breath for a longer amount of time. The modified breathing pattern still helped Cho to calm down, and soon she was breathing normally with only the occasional gasp as she cried.

Marietta gave Tris a grateful glance before turning to her friend and asking, "Cho, can you tell us what the problem is?"

Cho gave one last quivering sob before raising her tear-streaked face and whispering, "It's Harry."

"What about him?"

"He... he... I don't know; he's just so... so... nice and friendly."

"You like him, don't know?" said one of her friends. Tris saw Mandy and Padma look at each other in surprise; this was news to them.

"Yes... but I can't stop thinking about... _him_. Cedric." Cho glanced at a picture propped up on the window above her bed. Tris looked at it as well, and saw that it showed a picture of Cho and a tall, brown-haired boy; both were laughing at the camera. That made her realize, she had never seen Cho laugh, or even really smile.

The group of older girls glanced momentarily at each other, a look of realization and understanding in their eyes.

"I can't help thinking," Cho continued, "that he'd be... angry, or sad... that I'm thinking about Harry, right after he..." She burst into tears again but managed to keep talking. "I feel like... like I'm betraying him. His memory."

"Cho, that's not true," her friend said comfortingly. "You know Cedric would've wanted you to be happy. He would be probably be sadder if you didn't let yourself like anyone and be lonely because of him."

"I know... but... I can't help but think about it, and wonder what he'd say if... if he was here. And... I mean, Harry was _with_ him, that night. Everything is just so confusing right now."

Her fried gave her a hug and began talking with her quietly. While their attention was elsewhere, Marietta whispered to the fifth-years, "You'd better leave now. Thanks for your help."

The three girls slipped out of the room and silently returned to their dorm. When they got there, Tris turned to the other two and asked them, "What was she talking about? Who was Cedric?"

Mandy looked sadly at her. "Cedric and Cho were friends for the longest time; they started going out, let's see, two years ago, I think. They absolutely adored each other; it was the sweetest thing to watch them walking around, he'd always help her to her seat and everything. Cedric was really polite and kind, although he never really talked a lot, he was pretty quiet."

Seeing that she was about to start crying, Padma continued for her. "He was a sixth-year, in Hufflepuff, last year. We had the Triwizard Tournament; it's a bit competition between three different wizarding schools. Normally there's only one representative from each school, but someone tampered with the Goblet of Fire. He was selected to be one of the challengers from our school, and so was Harry. Cedric did a really good job, he finished all the tasks, but on the last one...well, something happened. Only Dumbledore and Harry know what it was, exactly, but what we were told was that he had been murdered." She paused and sniffed. "It was really sad, Cho cried for weeks afterward. Even now, she's often crying during meals and classes."

Tris stared at them in shock. She had seen many deaths, been accountable for deaths, but to hear about this and to see how affected Cho was by it was upsetting. "Who killed him?" she said finally.

Mandy shuddered. "It was... I can't say. We don't say his name. We just call him He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"Can you write it?" Tris asked her.

Mandy looked at Padma, who sighed and tore a piece of parchment from her notebook. She handed Mandy the parchment and a quill, and the girl hesitantly wrote on it before placing it on Tris' bed. Tris reached over and unfolded it. In the light of the candle she read one word.

_Voldemort._

The name itself felt evil, otherworldly. She read it again, committing it to memory before folding the paper back up. Holding it in the palm of her hand, she flicked sparks onto it until all that was left was a pile of fine gray ashes that her winds carried out the turret window into the dark night, leaving no trace of the paper and the name it contained behind.

* * *

**AN: So this is my last chapter for, well, a few weeks at least while I'm off on vacation. The length of this chapter should make up for the length you'll have to wait for the next one :P **

**Thanks to everyone who helped with my snow question; based on the info I got, this is likely the Circle's first snowy winter! And, this chapter officially marks the half-way point in the original HP book! Woot!**

**So, how long'd it take you to figure out the first POV? I had my sister proofread it for me; she was so confused, which was worth it for the amount of time it took me to figure out how exactly to write from a Thestral's perspective. I think I did a fairly good job, but that might be a prejudiced opinion. I figured that Thestrals, like any creature, wouldn't know or fully understand English, but there must be some way for them to figure out what people are saying; hence the whole 'touching minds' thing.**

**I will try to get you the next chapter asap; thanks for continuing to have faith in me and my sporadic updates. You guys are completely awesome; thanks so much for all your support of this story!**

**~Lyrannae**


	21. Chapter 19

**A/N: Hello again! I'm back! :P Sorry if this seemed like a long time coming.. I was writing for all of my 2 week vacation, and then just as I was starting to transfer all my written work to the computer, of course the back-to-school sales had to start up.. and then my neighbour was in hospital, and my uncle had to have an eye operation, and just general business kept me away for a while.**

**But I'm here now! Thanks for all your wonderful reviews, it felt really great to open my inbox and see 30+ new Fanfiction emails in it.. you're all such awesome fans of this story :) Hope you all had a great summer, and.. well, no more talking, on to the chapter!**

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Chapter 19 - Eyes of the Snake

Sandry lay awake in the dark, her hands folded underneath her head, staring up at the canopy of the four-poster bed above her. As she listened to the even breaths of the other girls, she wondered why it was tonight, of all nights, that she was unable to fall asleep. She didn't feel particularly nervous or excited... maybe she was homesick. Yes; now that she thought of it, that was probably the reason.

As much as she loved being at Hogwarts, she missed the... _familiarity_ of Winding Circle. She missed the clacking of the looms like Daja missed the ringing of hammers, or as Tris longed to hear the crashing waves. These sounds were safe, comfortable; they reminded her of home. Without them, she wasn't wholly content living here.

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, Sandry stood up and pulled on a warm woollen robe she had brought with her from Emelan over her nightgown. She slung her bag over her shoulder and then padded silently down the stairs in her bare feet.

At this late hour, the common-room was completely empty. Sandry settled herself into a thick armchair next to the fireplace. She started into the dying embers, resting her head in her hands as she thought about home.

The sight of a semi-transparent head poking through the back of the fireplace caused Sandry to jump backwards in shock. Apparently the ghost was just as surprised to see her, for he hastily pulled the rest of his body into the room rather than slowly drifting through the wall.

"Oh, hello, Sandrilene, what are you doing up so late?"

She smiled gloomily, her elbows already back to resting on her knees in their previous position. "Hi, Sir Nicholas. I couldn't sleep, so I came down here."

The ghost sighed reminiscently as he floated down to hover an inch above the surface of the couch. "Ah, sleeping. I can barely remember what it felt like. It's been so long, I doubt I could fall asleep again even if I could. It's strange, thinking of what you can and can't do as a ghost, in comparison to humans..."

Sandry didn't hear the rest of what Nick was saying. There was this buzzing sound ringing faintly through her head; it made listening impossible. She tried shaking her head and plugging her ears, but that didn't work to block it out.

"...and as a matter of fact, I... Sandrilene, is something the matter?" Nick looked at her, confused.

"Yes. No. Maybe... give me a minute..." She closed her eyes and reached into her mind. Nothing seemed out of order there, and so she opened her connections to her siblings to see if they knew what it was. As soon she moved the wall that blocked her mind from Briar's, his voice echoed through her head.

_SANDRY! DAJA! TRIS! WAKE UP!! ...Lakik's teeth, won't _one_ of you girls get up and listen to me already?!_

_Briar, shut up! _she screamed back. _You're giving me a headache!_

_Good, you're up. I was about to use my _shakkan _to blast that wall of yours apart. Why do you block us off at night, anyway?_

_This is a perfect example for why. I don't exactly like being disturbed when I'm sleeping. You're lucky I was already awake!_

_Why were you up... no, never mind. There's no time for that. Listen, you've got to get McGonagall!_

Sandry frowned. Why?

_Harry's all... weird... thrashing around and stuff. He looks like Niko when he's seeing something, 'cept he's a lot more panicky-_ Briar broke off suddenly. _Why'm I telling you this when I could save time and just show you?_

At once, Sandry found herself looking through Briar's eyes. He was watching a bed on which Harry was thrashing about, rolling from side to side, his face completely devoid of emotion. Briar turned his head to face the rest of the dormitory, and in the partial darkness of the room she could see the worry on Ron's face as he said in an undertone to Briar, "What the bloody hell is the matter with him?"

Sandry broke off their connection and opened her eyes, turning to face the ghost once more. "Nick, I need a favour from you. Can you get Professor McGonagall?" Seeing his hesitation, she added, "Please, it's really important."

He sighed but nodded, his head wobbling dangerously. "All right. I'll fetch her and be back as quick as I can." Rising hastily from the couch, he placed a hand firmly on the top of his head before swooping through the stone wall and vanished from sight. As soon as he was gone, Sandry jumped up from her chair and raced up to steps to the boy's dorm.

The room was all shadows; she hadn't realized the lack of light from Briar's mind. With her first step into the room, she crashed into one of the beds. As she saw how dark the room was, Sandry pulled out a stone that radiated light from the pocket of her robe and held it high just in time to avoid walking into the disoriented boy who was climbing out the bed.

Seamus blinked up at her and then frowned, rubbing his eyes.

"Sorry about that," she apologized quickly.

His response was a mumbled "What're you doing in here?", but the question went unanswered as she pushed past him to join Ron and Briar at the back of the room.

Neither of the boys so much as looked up when she moved to stand between them. Turning her attention to the bed, she saw the Harry was still moving around, but he was now breathing harder and it looked like he was grimacing.

"He's going to fall off the bed if he keeps rolling around like that," Ron said.

"Why don't you move him then?" Briar suggested.

Ron flinched away from the bed as Harry's arm flung out and almost hit him. "He may be my best mate, but I'd have to be mad to get within two feet of him when he's in this state!"

Briar turned to Sandry and said, "Would you care to do the honours?"

Sandry rolled her eyes at him, and without even looking at the bed she snapped out her hand commandingly. Immediately the cotton threads drew closer together until Harry was wrapped so tightly that despite his squirming he wouldn't be able to get an arm of leg loose. With her mind she held her magic tightly, not letting the sheets loosen their hold.

Another boy walked up beside him. "What's happening?" he asked, sounding scared. Sandry recognized the voice at once as belonging to Neville.

Twisting her head slightly so that she could see him, she said, "Go downstairs to the common-room. When Professor McGonagall gets there, bring her up."

"Okay." With one last glance towards Harry, Neville turned and left the room.

By now, everyone was up. Dean and Seamus stood against one wall, muttering to each other as they watched Harry; Briar leaned against someone's bed-post with his arms crossed; and Ron stood next to Harry's bed, trying to wake him up without touching him. She was surprised that no one else in the dorms below them had heard the noise they were making and come to investigate.

Several seconds passed, and then there was a sudden yell from the bed. As everyone turned to face him, Harry's eyes flew open. Wincing in pain, he grabbed his head in his hands. She loosened the sheets holding him in place just in time for him to roll over and vomit over the side of the bed.

"Harry!" Ron shouted in fright. "Are you all right?"

Slowly pushing himself up, Harry wiped the sweat off his face with the sleeve of his shirt and then looked up at Ron. "It's your dad," he said between gasps of breath. "Your dad's... been attacked..."

"What?"

"Your dad! There was this great bloody snake, he was bitten, it's serious... there was blood everywhere..."

"Harry, mate," Ron said uncertainly, "you were just dreaming, it didn't actually happen."

"It must have," Briar cut in. "Didn't you see how he looked? His face?"

"Yes! It did," Harry said heatedly. "It wasn't a dream, not an ordinary dream... I was there, I saw it... hell, I _did_ it..." He paled and retched again, causing Ron to leap backwards out of the way.

"Harry, you're not well," he said shakily. "Neville's gone to get help."

"I'm fine!" Harry said shakily. 'There's nothing wrong with me, it's you dad we need to worry about, we need to find out where he is..." He tried to get out of bed but Ron pushed him back into it, and he sat there in silence, the blood slowly returning to his face. Sandry grabbed a pitcher of water standing nearby and poured some of it into a cup. She pressed the cup into his hands and he drank it, muttering his thanks.

Sandry leaned back against the wall beside Briar. The two exchanged glances before Briar spoke to her.

_Well?_

_Well what?_

_Do you think it really happened?_

_I think so... I hope Ron's dad is all right._

_Yeah._

They stood there in silence for what felt like an eternity but were really only a few minutes before the door opened once more and Professor McGonagall strode into the room with Neville following behind her.

"What is it, Potter? Where does it hurt?" She grabbed her glasses as they almost fell off from their lopsided position and put them hastily back onto her nose.

Upon seeing her, Harry's face immediately smoothed into an expression of relief. "It's Ron's dad," he said, sitting up. "He's been attacked by a snake and it's serious, I saw it happen."

"What do you mean, you saw it happen?" asked the professor, her eyebrows coming together in a frown.

"I don't know; I was asleep and then I was there..."

"You mean you were dreaming?"

"No!" said Harry angrily. "I swear I wasn't."

"It's true, Professor. You can believe him," Briar told her.

She glanced at him and asked curtly, "And how do you know it was real?"

"I don't. Not for certain, at least," he replied.

Sandry hastily added, "One of our teachers, he sees things sometimes, and it's kind of like a dream for him, but not really."

McGonagall looked towards her, clearly startled. "Miss Toren, what on earth are you doing in here?"

"Briar called me," Sandry said simply.

She stared at her for a moment and then turned to Harry. "I believe you, Potter," she said curtly. "Put on a sweater - we're going to see the Headmaster. You three ought to come as well. That means you, Weasley, Moss, Miss Toren."

"Finally," Harry said with relief as he grabbed his Griffindor sweater and his glasses.

* * *

"Well, I quite disagree with you over that-"

"Mutiny! Siding against the Headmaster!"

"We are allowed our own opinions, Fortescue-"

"Of course; but really, Phineas, can't you see Dumbledore's right?"

"Agnes, m'dear, you always agree with him; you can't force everyone else to-"

"It's all mutiny, I tell you!"

"Be quiet already, Fortescue! This is supposed to be a civilized discussion. Now, if we can get back on topic, we were talking about the validity of the Ministry's recent publications of new legal guidelines for magical devices. ."

"Yes, and I stand by what I said before-"

"silent, Phineas! You had your turn already. Dilys, you were saying..?"

"Yes, I was wondering whether, perhaps, the Minister is feeling threatened by Dumbledore's invention of **the magical viewer**-"

A short rapping at the door went unheard by the group of previous Headmasters and Headmistresses, and so Dumbledore gave a slight cough. When they paused to look at him, someone knocked at the door again, and all six immediately stopped talking and either sat back down in their chairs or leaned against the sides of their portrait frames. Within only a few seconds, they all appeared to be sleeping and the office was silent. The portraits had all mastered the arts of snoring and drooling on command; it was almost comical to watch.

Dumbledore pointed his wand at the door and gave it a slight flick, causing it to swing open.

"Oh, it's you, Minerva... and... _ah_." At seeing the four students clustered behind her, Dumbledore internally sighed, wondering if they had come to him for the reason he guessed they had. He looked at Minerva, silently asking her to tell him what had happened.

"Professor Dumbledore, Potter has had a... well, a nightmare," she said at once. "He says-"

"He wasn't having a nightmare," the boy Briar put in quickly.

Minerva glanced at him, frowning slightly. "Stop saying that, Moss. Potter, why don't you tell the Headmaster about it?"

"I... well, I _was_ asleep," Harry began. Dumbledore looked down at the fabric of his purple-and-gold dressing gown as the boy spoke, taking in every word and analysing it. "But it wasn't an ordinary dream... it was real, I saw it happen... Ron's dad, Mr Weasley, has been attacked by a giant snake."

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. "How did you see this?" he asked quietly.

"Well, I don't know... inside my head, I suppose." Harry sounded rather angry by his question. Dumbledore could understand that. The question didn't quite make sense, even to his own ears; the wording wasn't quite right.

"No, what I mean is... er... where were you positioned as you watched this attack happen? Were you perhaps standing beside the victim, or looking down on it from above?"

Harry paused before answering. "I was the snake. I saw it all from the snake's point of view."

Of course he would have seen it from the snake. It was starting to come together now. But there was one crucial detail still missing... Dumbledore moved his gaze from the shadowy ceiling to Ronald's face, and at seeing how pale he was, he asked Harry, "Is Arthur seriously injured?"

"_Yes_," Harry said insistently.

Dumbledore stood up quickly and turned to the cluster of portraits near the ceiling, addressing two of them in particular. "Everard? And you too, Dilys!"

The black-haired wizard and the witch with long silver ringlets opened their eyes at once and turned to face him.

"You were listening?" he asked them, and they both nodded. "Good. The man has red hair and glasses. Everard, you will need to raise the alarm, make sure he is found by the right people."

They nodded again and left their pictures, and Dumbledore flicked his wand before gesturing for the five to take a seat in the row of squashy purple armchairs that had appeared. As they sat down, he walked over to Fawkes and gently stroked his head with one finger. The phoenix opened his eyes and raised his head.

"We will need a warning," Dumbledore said to the bird quietly, and Fawkes vanished in a flash of fire.

He now turned to one of his spindly tables and lifted off of it a delicate silver instrument. Bringing it over to the desk, he placed it gently down before seating himself and tapping it with his wand. The four students drew closer as though they were one to watch what was happening.

A tiny wheel spun, making periodic clinking noises, and puffs of dark green smoke rose from a small pipe at the top of the machine. Dumbledore watched with a frown as the wisps of smoke thickened into a steady stream that coiled into the air, the head of a serpent forming at the top. Unsurprised, Dumbledore watched the spirit of the dream-snake for a moment more before murmuring to it, "Naturally; but in essence divided?"

The dream-snake split into two separate snakes, with only the thinnest thread of smoke connecting them. With the faintest of sighs, Dumbledore tapped it again with his wand. Once the wheel had stopped turning and the smoke had vanished he carried it back to the circular table.

Returning to his seat, Dumbledore looked from Briar to Sandrilene. "How is it that you two knew Harry wasn't just dreaming?"

They glanced at each other and seemed to be speaking silently for a moment, before Sandrilene turned to him and said, "Professor, our main teacher, Niko - Niklaren - you know him, right?"

"I am acquaintanced with him, yes."

"Well, then you might know he's got magic with seeing things. He found all four of us, and brought us to Winding Circle to be taught. But sometimes he sees the future, or the past, and he sometimes moves a bit, but his face goes all blank and emotionless." She paused for breath and continued. "Sir, Harry looked just like that. Even though he was thrashing around in his sleep, he wasn't looking scared or mad or anything."

"Our mate Tris," Briar added, "she looks like that too, now and then. Sometimes it's just because she's listening to something else and isn't really paying attention, but sometimes she's actually _seeing _something."

"Interesting. And, if you don't mind me asking, how did you find out about Harry?" This was directed at Sandrilene.

She exchanged a glance with Briar again before shrugging and saying, "Briar told me."

"He just walked out and went up to your dorm to tell you?" Dumbledore said, raising an eyebrow.

"No, he... he told me in my mind. We've got this connection, you see." She paused as though thinking how to explain it, but was interrupted by a voice from the wall.

"Dumbledore!" Everard reappeared in his portrait, panting heavily as though he had been running hard.

He turned away from Sandrilene, somewhat reluctantly. "What news?"

"I yelled until someone came running," he said, using the curtain behind him to wipe the sweat off his brow. "I said I'd heard something moving downstairs. They weren't sure whether to believe me, but they went down to check; you know there are no portraits down there to watch from. Anyways, they just carried him up a few minutes ago. He doesn't look too good, covered in blood, I ran along to Elfrida Cragg's portrait to get a good view as they left..."

"Good," Dumbledore said, pouring a glass of water from the pitcher on his desk and passing it to Ronald, who at Everard's words was now looking rather faint. "I expect Dilys will have seen him arrive, then."

Sure enough, only a few moments had passed before the witch reappeared in her portrait; coughing, she sank into her armchair and said hoarsely, "They've taken him to St Mungo's, Dumbledore, carried him past my portrait... he looks bad..."

"Thank you." Dumbledore turned to the professor. "Minerva, I need you to go and get the other Weasley children."

"Of course. But, Albus, what about Molly?"

"That will be a job for Fawkes once he is finished keeping a lookout for anyone approaching. But she may already know; that excellent clock of hers..." His sentence trailed off, and as Minerva left the room, Dumbledore turned back to Sandrilene and said, "Miss Toren, kindly summon your sisters to my office; I would very much like to speak with them."

"Yes, sir, but if you don't mind me asking... why do you want to speak to them? We're here, you can talk to us." The girl looked confused; for that matter, all four students were looking a bit taken aback by what was happening.

"I would like to send you and Mr Moss away with the Weasleys and Mr Potter, having viewed the incident; you may be useful there. However, there are still many unanswered questions I have regarding you and your siblings, and your sisters could be of some use to me."

She nodded and closed her eyes, the calm expression on her face slowly fading into frustration. Opening one eye, she looked at Briar and said softly, "They're sleeping." He nodded as though this statement made complete sense, and taking her hand, they both closed their eyes, appearing to be concentrating hard.

Dumbledore watched this entire proceeding with interest, all the while rummaging inside his largest desk drawer. His hands bumped a large, strangely shaped metal object, and he pulled out the blackened kettle to set it on his desk. Raising his wand, he murmured "_Portus!_" In his mind, he pictured the dark kitchen of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, figuring the time for departure by the darkness outside the small kitchen window. The blue light of the Portkey faded as the spell took place.

"Professor," Briar spoke, "we've called them. They're on their way."

Dumbledore nodded. "Good. I trust you explained why?"

"Yes, sir."

Rising to his feet, Dumbledore stood in front of a medium-sized picture depicting a black-haired man wearing robes of green and silver.

"Phineas. _Phineas._" Of course he would continue to be feigning sleep; he had always been the most contrary out of all the portraits. To Dumbledore's relief the other portraits were now shouting his name as well, and the man finally opened his eyes, faking a yawn before speaking.

"Did someone call?"

"I need you to visit your other portrait again, Phineas. I've got another message."

"Visit my other portrait?" asked Phineas with another yawn. "Oh, no, Dumbledore, I am much too tired tonight."

"Insubordination!" boomed the ever-dutiful Dexter Fortescue. "Dereliction of duty!"

"We are honour-bound to give service to the present Headmaster of Hogwarts! Shame on you, Phineas!" cried Armando.

"Shall I persuade him, Dumbledore?" asked Agnes, brandishing her thick wand at Phineas.

"Oh, very well," said Phineas apprehensively as he eyed her wand. "Though I wouldn't be surprised if he's gotten rid of my picture by now, he's done away with the rest of the family; the man has no taste whatsoever in style-"

"Sirius knows not to destroy your picture," Dumbledore said quietly, rubbing his temple. "You are to give the message that Arthur Weasley has been gravely injured and that his wife, children, Harry Potter, and two other students will be arriving at his house shortly. Do you understand?"

"Arthur Weasley, injured, with wife, children, Potter and two others coming to stay," recited Phineas in a bored voice. "Yes, yes... very well..." He walked away and disappeared from view just as someone knocked at the door again.

Fred, George, and Ginevra Weasley were all ushered into the room by Minerva, soon followed by Trisana Chandler and Daja Kisubo. All five of them looked dishevelled and were still wearing their night clothes.

"Harry, what's going on?" asked Ginevra, looked frightened. "Professor McGonagall said something about you seeing Dad get hurt-"

"Your father," Dumbledore cut in, "has been injured in the course of his work for the Order of the Phoenix. He had been taken to St Mungo's. I am sending you back to Sirius' house, which is much more convenient for the hospital than The Burrow. You will meet your mother there." Gesturing towards the old kettle, he added, "I trust you have all travelled by Portkey before?"

They nodded, and clustered around his desk, each one reaching out to touch the kettle. Sandrilene and Briar looked briefly towards their sisters, left standing uncertainly in the center of the room, before joining the Weasleys.

Phineas reappeared at that moment and said in a bored tone, "Sirius says he'll be delighted-"

"Good. On the count of three, then. One... two... three." At the same time as Dumbledore said _three_, he looked up to see Harry's eyes on his face. His pupils had changed, flashing red briefly; and then there was a whirlwind of dust, papers blowing around the room, and the group disappeared.

"My great-great-grandson has always had an odd taste in houseguests," Phineas said to no one in particular as he sat down on the wooden chair in the centre of the picture.

A flash of fire illuminated the room, leaving behind a single golden feather that floated gently to the floor. Bending down to pick it up, Dumbledore turned to Minerva and said, "It is Fawkes' warning. Professor Umbridge must know you are out of your beds. Minerva, you must go and head her off; tell her any story, make up anything you can to keep her away." Before he had finished speaking, Minerva was already out of the room and, hopefully, on her way to stop Dolores from coming up to his office.

Turning to the two girls, he said, "Please, sit down." They sat hesitantly in the plush armchairs, looking nervously around them.

He sat down as well and said to them, "Your sister started telling me about your magic, and more specifically, your connection. Unfortunately we were interrupted before we could finish. Can you tell me more about it? How did you form the bond between you?"

Daja said slowly, "Our connection was formed four years ago, in the middle of an earthquake. We were trapped underground in a cave when the quakes started. We all tried to make some kind of protection, but none of us were strong enough to reach what we needed. Sandry has magic with thread and weaving; she had a spindle with her at the time. There was a thread on it, the first thread she spun, with four knots spaced out along it." She paused and took a drink of water from the glass Dumbledore passed her. "Sandry told us to put some of ourselves into one of the knots, one of our memories, and since they're connected to our magic, we ended up with each of the knots being full of our magic. Sandry used her spindle and spun our magic together; she made us all stronger, so that we could protect ourselves from the earthquake."

Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Interesting. So you all have bits of each other in you?"

Trisana nodded. "Sandry had to separate it all out later, because we were mixed up too much. Briar would be trying to touch plants and my lightning would jump out of his fingers and burn them; that kind of thing. But there's obviously a little bit of it still in us, otherwise we couldn't talk to each other in our minds."

"And it was by this connection that Sandrilene heard about Harry's vision?"

"Yes. She told us that Briar called her, and then he showed her what was happening," Daja said.

Dumbledore nodded absentmindedly, and then stopped at realizing what she had said. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you said that he _showed_ her?"

Daja nodded. "Sometimes, we can sort of... see through each other's eyes."

"It's a lot more convenient than talking, because then we can feel what the other person is thinking or feeling as well as see what they're seeing," Trisana added.

Now that they knew they weren't in trouble, both girls visibly relaxed and became much more comfortable with talking to him. They told him about each of their types of magic, and talked a bit more about Niko's visions and how he had taught Tris to change her vision so that she could see magic. By the time twenty minutes had passed, he felt that he had learned all he needed to know.

There was yet another knock on the door, and Minerva poked her head in briefly to say, "Albus, I've given Dolores the excuse of Harry being ill and Ronald accompanying him to your office for help. I told her he might have to be sent home early, that should stop her from wondering about where he is tomorrow."

"Good; and of course, by early this morning it will be expected that the Weasleys have been contacted about Arthur, it won't be suspicious that they've left early as well." Dumbledore smiled with relief that it had all worked out. "Thank you, Minerva. Could you please accompany Miss Kisubo and Miss Chandler back to their dormitories?"

As they left, Dumbledore settled himself more comfortably in his desk chair and Vanished the five purple armchairs from his office. He picked up a large golden quill and quickly began recording everything the girls had told him.

Initially, he had thought that perhaps the piece of Voldemort that had been cast inside Harry fifteen years ago was possessing him. But with learning more of the four's magic, he had discovered that Daja was not possessed by multiple beings; she was simply connected to her siblings. They were able to pass their magic through their links to each other and use it outside of their own bodies. It was strange to think of, but when held up to the undeniable link between Voldemort and Harry, similarities could be seen.

Perhaps, when Harry was sleeping, his mind became more vulnerable, less protected by the strength of the conscious mind. What Harry had described - seeing the attack through the eyes of the snake - sounded very similar to what Daja and Trisana had described of seeing through each other's eyes. Maybe the link between them and the links between the four were essentially the same. That could mean that their different types of magic were more closely related than he initially thought.

It might be useful to be able to watch what Voldemort was up to. Of course, if Voldemort found out about it as Dumbledore knew he would eventually then he could use it against them, against Harry. He could use it to force Harry to see things that weren't necessarily true, and in time, he might even be able to truly possess the boy.

If that indeed was the case... Dumbledore knew there was only one way to prevent Voldemort from gaining access to Harry's mind. And there were only two people at Hogwarts who could teach him.

He couldn't teach Harry, as much as he wanted to help the boy. He couldn't risk being so close to Harry, in case Voldemort already knew about the link and was keeping an eye on him. They couldn't risk the exposure of the Order of the Phoenix, or allow Voldemort to overhear Dumbledore's other thoughts on the prophecy.

But at the same time, he knew that Harry wouldn't at all like the other alternative. Nor would this other teacher appreciate being assigned to tutor him. Sadly, it had to be done, no matter how displeased they were by it.

* * *

**Ok, so there was no time between writing and other things going on to reply to reviews, so here's the answers to a couple interesting questions/points some of you brought up:**

**"Daja had a** **snowy winter in Cold Fire, right?" Yes, she did, but this is set _before_ the Circle Opens.. basically, what I figured was this - each of the Circle of Magic books takes place approximately one year apart from each other, hence the girls are about 14 and Briar is 15-ish, since he's supposed to be about a year older than them. Niko figured they wouldn't want to be separated from each other's years at Hogwarts, so they're all in 5th year. Daja trying to learn how to skate ties into Cold Fire, when she finally does learn how to skate.**

**"McGonagall only ever has Daja in her classes & doesn't seem to pay attention to the other three.." It's just worked out that way, no idea how.. she does watch all of them, but it seems that any time I write about her, Daja is in her class. I'll try to write about the others more, and the other teachers more, k?**

**I think that's it.. anyways, keep up with the brilliant reviews/questions/ideas/comments/etc! It makes me so happy :)**

**Thanks again!**

**Lyrannae**


	22. Chapter 20

**A/N: Rrgh, the stupid doc manager thingy wouldn't let me upload my chapter.. I was ready to give up when I realized, hey! I can copy and paste it! So, ta-da! here's the chapter for you. Hope you like!!**

**Disclaimer: JK Rowling and Tamora Pierce are the geniuses who own Harry Potter and the Circle. I'm just borrowing them for a while..**

* * *

Chapter 20 - The Hidden House

Sandry shut her eyes tightly as a powerful jerk lifted her body until she was parallel to the ground. The Portkey spun them around in tight circles, bumping them into each other. With her magic, she could feel Briar grinning from the feeling of weightlessness, despite the tension radiating from the silent Weasleys.

The wild ride ended much faster than when they had originally come to England. Within seconds, she had hit the ground, hearing the clanging of the kettle as it rolled away and the thumps of the others crashing onto the dirty wooden floor.

In the brief silence after their arrival, Sandry heard a faint voice saying, "Back again, the blood-traitor brats. Is it true their father's dying?"

"OUT!" roared another voice, and the patter of feet running away showed the command had been obeyed.

Rolling over onto her back, Sandry accepted Briar's outstretched hand and allowed him to help pull her to her feet. It was no surprise to her that he had managed to remain upright.

A tall, scruffy man with black hair entered the room and reached out to help Ginny up while asking anxiously, "What's going on? Phineas Nigellus said that Arthur's been injured-"

"Ask Harry," said one of the twins. "We woke up to see McGonagall in our room, we've got no clue what's happening."

"Yeah, I want to hear this for myself," added the other twin. Sandry suspected it was George, but she wasn't certain. They always wore the same clothes; even their burgundy pyjamas were identical.

The twins and Ginny turned to look at Harry. He looked extremely awkward and obviously found it difficult to tell them what he had seen. Once he had finished, they continued to stare at him for a moment before turning as one to the man in the corner.

"Is Mum here?" asked the first twin. Sensing her confusion, Briar leaned closer to her and whispered that it was Fred. Sandry couldn't understand how he was able to tell the two apart.

"She probably doesn't even know what's happened yet," said the man. "The important thing was to get you away before Umbridge could interfere."

"We've got to go to St. Mungo's," Ginny said persistently. Noticing that they were all still in their pyjamas, she said to the man, "Can you lend us cloaks or anything?"

"Hang on, you can't just go tearing off to St. Mungo's!" the man said, surprised.

"Course we can go if we want," Fred retorted obstinately. "He's our dad!"

The man sighed. "And how, exactly, are you going to explain how you knew that Arthur was attacked before the hospital even lets his wife know?" he pointed out, rolling his eyes.

"What does that matter?" asked George irritably.

"It matters because we don't want to draw attention to the fact that Harry is having visions of things that are happening hundreds of miles away!" the man shouted in exasperation. "Have you any idea what the Ministry would make of that information? We can't risk it getting out!"

Fred and George looked as though they could care less what the Ministry thought. Ginny said hopefully, "We could said that somebody else told us; we could have heard it somewhere other than Harry."

"Like who?" the man said impatiently. "Listen, your dad's been hurt while on duty for the Order, and the circumstances are fishy enough without his children knowing about it seconds after it happened! You could seriously damage the Order-"

"Who cares about the bloody Order?" shouted Fred.

"It's our dad dying we're talking about!" George yelled.

"Your father knew what he was getting into, and he won't thank you for messing things up for the Order!" said the man, looking just as angry as the twins. "I know it's hard for you to wait here, but he's in good hands, you can't do anything!" He paced across the room to grab a pot from the fire before the liquid inside boiled over. Returning his gaze to the twins, he said, "This is why you aren't in the Order; you don't understand, there are some things worth dying for!"

"Easy for you to say, stuck here! I don't see you risking your neck!"

The man paled, looking quite tempted to hit Fred for having said that. Restraining himself, he spoke with forced calm. "I know it's hard," he repeated, "but we've all got to act as though we don't know anything yet. We've got to stay put, at least until we hear from your mother, all right?"

Fred and George glared at him, looking mutinous, but Ginny walked over to the nearest chair and sank into it. Ron, having stood silently beside the fireplace during their exchange, also sat down. The twins remained standing for nearly half a minute, glaring at the man while he stared evenly back at them, but they finally sat down tensely in the chairs on either side of Ginny.

"That's it," the man said encouragingly, "let's all... let's all... I know, let's all have a drink! Accio Butterbeer!" A box of clinking bottle came flying out of the pantry and skidded across the table, scattering the uneaten meal that had been laid out before they arrived.

"You two can sit down," Harry said, gesturing to the empty chairs beside him as he glanced up at Briar and Sandry.

"Who?" the man asked distractedly as he handed out the bottles. Finally raising his head, he noticed them standing against the wall. "Oh, right, Phineas did mention that there were two others coming. Who are you?"

"I'm Briar, Briar Moss," said her brother as he plopped himself into the chair beside Harry and grabbed a Butterbeer.

Shaking her head at his impoliteness, Sandry held out her hand to the man. "Sandrilene fa Toren. Sandry."

"Pleased to meet you," the man said, putting a Butterbeer in her outstretched hand rather than shaking it as she had expected. "I'm Sirius Black; Harry's godfather."

"Is this your house?" she asked him politely as she sat down.

"Yes, lucky me," Sirius muttered. "My dear old mother is absolutely delighted to have me living in it again."

For a while, the only sounds in the room was the crackling fire and the gentle thuds of their bottles on the table. Sandry noticed that Harry looked rather guilty, as though it was his fault they were all sitting in the firelight of the dirty room rather than lying comfortably in their beds. He set his bottle down rather hard, and the drink inside slopped out onto the table. No one else seemed to notice; they were all busy with their own thoughts.

A burst of fire right over the table illuminated the dirty plates in front of them, and as each of them jumped back in shock and surprise, a roll of parchment fell onto the table, accompanied by a single golden feather.

"Fawkes!" exclaimed Sirius, snatching up the parchment at once. "It's not Dumbledore's writing, it must be from your mother-"

He passed it into George's hand, who ripped it open eagerly. He started to read it to himself, but Ginny poked him and instead he read it aloud.

Dad is still alive. I am going to St Mungo's now. Stay where you are. I will send news as soon as I can. Love you all. Mum.

George looked around the table. "Still alive..." he said slowly. "But that makes it sound..." He stopped, unable to continue, but Sandry could guess at what he was going to say. To her, the letter made it sound as though Mr Weasley was hovering somewhere between life and death. The group gathered around the table stared at each other, worry and hope and fear written on each of their faces.

That night was one of the longest Sandry could remember. Refusing to go to bed, they sat silently in their chairs, watching the candle burn down, occasionally raising a bottle to their lips. Periodically they spoke, but only to check the time, to wonder aloud what was happening, and to reassure each other that, surely, if there was bad news they would have heard straightaway.

Hours passed. Fred slumbered in his chair, his head rolling sideways onto his shoulder, while George folded his arms on the table and rested his head in them. Ginny was curled tightly up in her chair, her eyes reflecting the firelight. Ron's head was in his hands; it was impossible to tell whether he was asleep or awake. Sandry, Briar, Sirius, and Harry sat or stood silently in the room, occasionally looking at one another, feeling like intruders among the mournful family.

Just as sunlight was beginning to enter through the dirty window at ten past five in the morning, the kitchen door swung open and a red-haired woman wrapped in a colourful cloak entered the room. She was obviously none other than Mrs Weasley, for as she entered, she said wearily, "He's going to be all right. Bill's sitting with him now; he's going to take the morning off work. I've Flooed Charlie and he said that he's got an important meeting with the head of the dragon reservation tomorrow, but he'll be back as soon as he can."

Fred, having started awake when she entered, fell backwards into his chair heavily enough to knock it over. Ginny walked swiftly over to their mother and hugged her, while George helped his brother up. Ron laughed shakily and finished the rest of his Butterbeer in one gulp.

"Breakfast!" cried Sirius joyfully as he jumped to his feet. "Where's that accursed house-elf? Kreacher! KREACHER!" No one answered his call, and Sirius muttered, "Oh, forget it then. So, it's breakfast for - let's see - nine... bacon and eggs, I think, and some toast..."

Sandry and Harry jumped up to help him. With Sirius' directions, she went into the pantry and pulled out a carton of eggs, which she cracked into a large pan and mixed with some milk and spices before placing it on the stove to cook. Sirius flicked his wand, causing a large, plastic-wrapped bundle to come floating into his hands, which he cut open to reveal strips of bacon. Harry took an armful of plates from the cupboard and was setting them around the table when Mrs Weasley came up beside him and pulled him into a hug, tearfully thanking him before turning to Sirius and hugging him as well.

"Thank you so much for letting the children come here, Sirius, I don't know what we would have done otherwise-"

"No, I'm glad to have helped; you're all welcome to stay as long as Arthur's in hospital, if you like."

"Oh, Sirius, thank you... they think he'll be in there a little while and it would be wonderful to be nearer to St. Mungo's. Of course," she added, "that might mean we'll be here for Christmas."

Sirius beamed at her, obviously pleased. "The more the merrier!" he exclaimed, and Mrs Weasley smiled gratefully at him before tying on an apron and going to flip the sizzling bacon.

It was a merry breakfast, as everyone was relieved to know that Mr Weasley would be all right. Briar joined the three Weasley boys in shovelling down as much food as they could, while Ginny just sat there laughing and crying at the same time.

After breakfast, all of them headed upstairs. The hall was quite dark, but Sirius lit some candles and passed them around. Holding her candle carefully, Sandry followed Ginny up a twisting staircase to a large, clean room with two beds.

"This is the room Hermione and I shared over the summer," Ginny said, placing her candle down on a small table and lifting a pile of books off one of the beds. Dropping them onto the floor, she added, "You might as well sleep in Hermione's bed; she's staying with her parents for Christmas."

Climbing into the warm bed, Sandry pulled out her light-rock and placed it on the table before blowing out the candle. Ginny exclaimed over the clear light and the two talked for a bit, but soon they both fell fast asleep.

The bright sunlight streaming in through the window awoke them around noon. While they were helping themselves to the large platter of sandwiches that Mrs Weasley had made, there was another flash of fire, and once the blindingly bright light had faded they saw a pile of seven trunks sitting in the centre of the kitchen, along with a second golden feather that was resting on the top trunk. They were all quite relieved by this; none of them, except maybe Fred and George, really wanted to walk into St Mungo's in their pyjamas.

Sandry pulled out one of her dresses to change into, but Ginny stopped her and asked, "Are you going to change into that?"

"Yes, what's wrong with it?" Sandry said, confused.

"Well, we're supposed to go in disguise as Muggles to go to St. Mungo's. Not many Muggle girls wear dresses," Ginny explained. "Do you want me to lend you some Muggle clothes? You're about my height, and if they don't fit, I think Hermione left some of her things in the closet."

"Um.. sure, that'd be great," Sandry said, feeling reluctant. "What kind of clothes were you thinking of?"

Ginny grinned at her, suddenly looking quite similar to Fred and George. She grabbed some clothes out of her trunk and shoved them at her. "Put these on."

With several minutes minutes and a bit of struggling, Sandry was finally wearing clothes Ginny deemed as the perfect 'Muggle disguise'. The blue tank top and black sweater she was fine with, although she was a bit nervous with her pendant hanging in plain view. But the jeans Ginny had forced her into with surprising strength were uncomfortably close-fitting for someone so used to wearing nothing but dresses and the occasional skirt.

"You need to wear jeans more, or at least pants," Ginny informed Sandry as she pulled on a dark green shirt. "Now the only thing you need is a pair of sneakers, and you're done!" She showed her how to tie the laces and then led her down the stairs to a wooden door that she banged loudly on.

"What?" yelled Ron from inside.

"Hurry up! Mum said five minutes before we leave, and that was five minutes ago!" she shouted back.

There was a pause and the sound of movement and scuffling feet before the door opened and the three boys stepped out. Ron had a striped, long-sleeved shirt on with the sleeves pulled up to his elbows, while Harry and Briar both wore sweaters over their shirts, and all three wore jeans.

Briar grinned at Sandry and waved his hand at her in a strange gesture, with the middle two fingers tucked down and the thumb sticking out.

"Yo," he greeted her.

"What does that mean?"

"I'm not sure. Harry says it's a Muggle thing, like, for cool people, and gangsters. "

"Gangsters?"

"They're kinda like street rats, I think," Briar said with a shrug. "I don't really get it. But how do I look?"

"You'll blend in pretty well with the Muggles, I think," she said as they walked down the stairs. "What's your opinion on the jeans?"

"They're interesting. I like what they look like, but it's a really stiff material they're made of. If I got in a fight, I don't think I'd be able to pull my knives out in time, not like my cotton breeches." Though he was walking in front of her, he obviously felt what she was thinking, for he hastily added, "Not that I brought any of my knives with me, that is.."

She rolled her eyes but smiled at the same time.

They walked into the parlour and were immediately greeted by Tonks. She had the same bright pink hair as when they had first seen her.

"Wotcher, Briar, Sandry," she said to them with a smile. "How have you two been holding up at Hogwarts? Everyone treating you okay?"

"Yes, everyone's been really nice to us. Well, not the Slytherins," Sandry admitted with a rueful smile.

"Ah, well, that's to be expected." Tonks shrugged. "They don't exactly have the reputation of being tolerant of the other Houses. I pity Sirius; he grew up in a household of Death Eaters and Slytherins. Luckily, the hat Sorted him into Griffindor, which turned him into such a rebel against the Black family that he was practically kicked out of it." She paused for a moment to look around the room, waving at a tall man standing over by the large fireplace. "Come on. There's someone I want you to meet."

Following her across the room, they stopped in front of the man. "Wotcher, Mad-Eye," Tonks greeted him cheerfully. "These are Briar and Sandry, two of the exchange students I was talking about earlier. Remember?"

"I remember," the man said, his voice a low growl. Raising his head, Sandry jumped back with a stifled shriek as she saw his eyes. One was a normal shade of dark brown, but the other was rapidly spinning and coloured an unnaturally bright shade of blue.

Briar caught her from behind, suppressing a laugh. Why're you so jumpy today, Highness? I'm fairly certain that you've seen creepier things than spinning eyeballs before.

She pushed his arms off, standing upright once more. The man nodded to her.

"The name's Alastor Moody, but you might as well stick with the crowd and call me Mad-Eye," he said to them. "Although, as long as we're within hearing of Muggles, you should call me Alastor." He pulled one end of large, rounded hat over his wildly turning eye, and then turned and addressed to the group at large, "All right, everyone, let's get moving!"

"Are we taking the Knight Bus again?" Sandry asked Tonks, trying not to look too nervous.

"Merlin's pants, no!" she laughed. "Thank goodness Moody decided it was safe enough for us to take the Underground."

They left the house waving to Sirius, who looked rather disappointed to be left behind but was clearly disguising it as best as he could with a huge smile. As they left, Sandry turned around one last time and saw with some surprise that the house appeared to be retracting. After only a few seconds had passed, it was completely gone from sight. The occupants of the houses on either side of it didn't seem to notice.

Tonks grinned at her as she turned back around to keep following them. "It's neat, isn't it?" she asked her. Without waiting for an answer, she went on. "Dumbledore put an enchantment on the house several years ago. Unless you know it's there, you can't see it. It comes in handy when we need somewhere to hide, or when we're having meetings with the Order."

After walking through the snow-covered park in front of the house, Moody led them down the street to a small building. Inside, they rode down a moving flight of stairs Ron told them was an escalator, and with Tonks' help Briar and Sandry figured out how to scan their tickets and board the train. Sandry sat on a seat next to Ginny and listened to her as she talked about a wizarding band called the Weird Sisters. In front of her, Briar was asking Ron about the different rules of Quidditch, and behind them she could hear Tonks wondering aloud to Harry if he had any Seer blood. Across the isle, Mrs Weasley was reading the Daily Prophet while Fred and George played a card game in the seat behind her. Moody was standing up by the door, blending in surprisingly well with the Muggles despite his huge coat, his cane, and the general battered look to his face.

It was a very short ride as they got off at the next station. They followed Tonks up the escalator as Moody stumped along at the back of the group with one hand curled around the wand in his coat pocket. As they came up into the streets, he pushed Harry slightly in front of him and began talking about St. Mungo's.

"It wasn't easy to find a good location for a hospital. Nowhere in Diagon Alley was big enough and we couldn't have it underground like the Ministry - wouldn't be healthy. In the end they managed to get hold of a building up here. Theory was, sick wizards could come and go and just blend in with the crowd." He grabbed Briar by the shoulder and held onto him tightly to prevent him from being separated from them by a group of Muggles trying to fight their way into a large store.

"Here we are," Moody said a moment later.

Sandry stared up at the large brick building. According to the tattered sign swinging above them, its name was Purge & Dowse Ltd. As a hospital, it appeared discouraging at the least; the window displays consisted of a few chipped dummies with their wings half-off, displaying the kind of dresses that were out of style even in Emelan. The fabric was falling apart, and the cracked windows gave the building a generally shabby air.

"All right," Tonks said, motioning them over to a window containing a particularly ugly dummy. "Everyone ready?" At their nods, she leaned close to the glass, her breath steaming it up as she spoke. "Wotcher," she said quietly, "we're here to see Arthur Weasley."

Sandry exchanged a look with Briar. He raised his eyebrows at her and asked, Why's she talking so quietly? The dummy won't hear her.

Dummies can't hear anything, Briar, they're fake.

Really? Cause it sure looks alive to me.

At his urging, she looked back towards the window and saw with some surprise that the dummy was indeed moving. One of its false eyes winked at Tonks and its head tilted forward in a nod. Two of its fingers moved forward, beckoning them to come closer.

Tonks waved Mrs Weasley forward, and the woman took Ginny by the elbow and walked straight through the glass. Both of them vanished immediately.

It's like a secret passage, Sandry thought in wonder as she watched Fred, George and Ron follow them. The Muggles can see the building, but they can't come in because the dummy won't let them.

You've got to hand it to those wizards; they're pretty smart, Briar agreed.

Tonks waved them over, and they walked through the glass behind her, hearing Moody and Harry following at their heels.

Walking through the glass was a strange feeling; their vision blurred slightly, and it felt to Sandry as through she were walking through a sheet of water, though when they emerged on the other side she saw that their clothes remained dry.

There was no sign of the dummy; they were now in a crowded room, filled almost to overflowing with witches and wizards sitting in rows of rickety wooden chairs. Some of them looked quite normal, reading magazines and talking with their neighbours; others were gruesomely disfigured, with extra body parts and strangely-coloured skin. The room was quite as loud as the street outside had been, if not more so, for many of the patients were making strange noises. As they walked past, Sandry saw a red-faced witch in the centre of the first row fanning herself with a newspaper. At regular intervals, she kept making a high-pitched, whistling sound as steam poured from her mouth. A heavyset wizard in the corner was clanging like a bell every time he moved, and vibrating with each ring to the extent that he was having to hold his ears tightly to keep his head from swinging.

Witches and wizards dressed in matching green robes were walked up and down the aisles, talking to the patients and asking them questions as they took notes on their clipboards. On the front of their robes, an emblem of a crossed wand and bone was stitched.

"Are they doctors?" she heard Harry ask Ron quietly as they passed one of them.

"Doctors? You mean those Muggle nutters who go and cut people up?" Ron said, sounding startled. "Nah, these are Healers."

"Over here!" called Mrs Weasley loudly as she strode over to a large desk marked with the word Enquiries. She led the group into line behind a harassed-looking man who was holding tightly to the ankle of his young daughter as she flapped around his head, a pair of large, feathery wings having sprouted right through the back of her jacket. In front of them, a young wizard was jumping up and down at odd intervals as he tried to explain his predicament to the witch behind the desk in between yelps of pain.

"It's these - ouch - shoes my brother gave me - ow - they're eating my - OUCH - my feet, look at them, there must be some kind of - AARGH - jinx on them and I can't - ow - get them off!" He danced from one foot to the other as though he was standing on hot coals.

"The shoes don't prevent you from reading, do they?" said the blonde witch irritably as she pointed at a large sign to the left of her desk. "You want Spell Damage, fourth floor, just like it says on the floor guide. Next!"

The line moved forward a few steps and Sandry was able to clearly see the desk. The surface of the desk was very tidy with only a few extra clipboards laid out on it, but the wall behind it had posters and notices attached to it by magic. Each poster had a different saying on it, like A Clean Cauldron is a Healthy Cauldron and Antidotes are Anti-Don'ts Unless Approved by a Qualified Healer.

"That one doesn't make sense," Briar whispered to her. "What's an anti-don't? Ain't that one of those double negative things Tris is always going on about?"

"Tris doesn't 'go on' about it, except maybe to you, since your grammar used to be so bad," Sandry pointed out.

"Still, it doesn't make much sense."

She had to agree with him.

The man and his winged daughter left the line, and they moved up to the desk. A large portrait hung on the other side, and Sandry recognized its occupant immediately as Dilys, the silver-haired witch from Dumbledore's office. As they came up beside it, Dilys eyed their party as though counting them. Seeing Sandry looking at her, she gave her a tiny wink before walking sideways out of her portrait and leaving.

"How can I help you?"

"My husband, Arthur Weasley, was supposed to be moved to a different ward this morning, could you tell us..?"

"Arthur Weasley?" the witch said, pulling out a long list and running her finger down it. "Yes, first floor, second door on the right, Dai Llewellyn Ward."

"Thank you," said Mrs Weasley. "Come on, everyone."

They followed her through a set of large, highly polished double doors and along a narrow corridor beyond. It was quite interesting to walk through, as the walls were lined with more portraits of famous Healers, and tiny crystal balls with candles inside them floated up along the ceiling like bubbles of soap. They climbed up a flight of stairs and entered a second corridor, where the second door on the right bore the words 'Dangerous' Dai Llewellyn Ward for Serious Bites. Underneath this title was a small handwritten card in a brass holder with two names on it. The first, written in bold letters, said Healer-in-Charge: Hippocrates Smethwyck, and the smaller print beneath it read Trainee Healer: Augustus Pye.

Tonks paused at the door. "We'll wait outside, Molly," she said. "Arthur won't want too many visitors at once; it should just be the family first." Mad-Eye growled his approval and leaned against the wall, pulling up his bowler hat to reveal that his magical eye was spinning in all directions once more.

Harry, Briar and Sandry drew back as well, but Mrs Weasley reached out towards them, saying, "Don't be silly, Harry dear, Arthur wants to thank you. And he's quite eager to meet you two as well," she added, looking towards the other two.

"If you're sure it's all right," Sandry began to say, but Mrs Weasley waved her into the room without another word.

She entered the ward behind the twins. It was rather dim, as the only natural light came from a tiny window set high in the wall opposite the door. Most of the light came from the crystal bubbles clustered on the ceiling.

There were only three patients in the room. A man who could only be Mr Weasley was in the far corner of the room. Glancing up as the door opened, he beamed and tossed his newspaper aside from where he had been reading it in the space where a solitary beam of sunlight came in through the window.

"Hello!" he called to them, sounding only a bit tired to Sandry's ears.

"Where did Bill go?" Mrs Weasley asked him as she bent down to kiss his cheek.

"He had to get back to work, but he said he'll stop in to see you later."

"Good; and Charlie should be here in a couple days too." She peered down at him anxiously. "How are you feeling, dear? You're still looking a bit peaky."

"I feel absolutely fine," Mr Weasley said with a smile, holding out his good arm to give Ginny a hug. "If only they could take these bandages off, I'd be fit to go home."

"Why can't they take them off, Dad?" asked Fred.

"Well, for one, I start bleeding like mad every time they try," he said, his cheerful tone contradicting his words. Taking his wand off his bedside cabinet, he waved it so that eight curved wooden chairs appeared to seat them all. "It seems that there was some rather unusual kind of poison in that snake's fangs that keeps wounds open; a defensive strategy of some sort. They're sure they'll find an antidote; Augustus says they've had much worse cases than mine, and in the meantime I just have to take a Blood-Replenishing Potion every hour. But that fellow over there," he said, dropping his voice and nodding over to the bed opposite his. "Bitten by a werewolf, poor chap. No cure at all."

A werewolf? Briar thought, surprised. What exactly is that?

Remember, Hagrid mentioned them one day in class... they're people who turn into wolves at the full moon. Sandry looked over to the man. He lay unmoving on his back, staring up at the ceiling as though in shock.

"A werewolf?" whispered Mrs Weasley, looking alarmed. "Shouldn't he be in a private room?"

"It's nearly two weeks till the full moon," Mr Weasley reminded her quietly. "The Healers have been talking to him all morning, trying to persuade him that he'd be able to live almost normally. I said to him - didn't mention names, of course - that I knew a werewolf personally, very nice man, who finds that conditions quite easy to manage."

"What did he say?" George asked him, glancing over to the man.

"Said he'd give me another bite if I didn't shut up," Mr Weasley said sadly. Briar snorted at that, and Sandry nudged him.

What? It's funny.

It's not funny, it's serious! Can you imagine how it would feel, knowing that you're going to turn into a blood-thirsty wolf once a month?

That'd be kind of cool, actually-

"So, are you going to tell us what happened, Dad?"

"Well, you already know, don't you?" Mr Weasley said, smiling at Harry. "It's very simple - I'd had a long day, went on duty, dozed off, and got sneaked up on and bitten."

"Is it in the Prophet, you being attacked?" Fred asked, rifling through the newspaper.

"No, of course not; the Ministry wouldn't want everyone to know that a dirty great snake got-"

"Arthur!"

"-got - er - me," he said hastily.

"So where were you when it happened?" George questioned him.

"That'd my business," Mr Weasley said with a chuckle. He turned to face Sandry and said to her, "It's Sandrilene, right?"

"Yes, sir, but you can just call me Sandry," she told him, a bit puzzled as to how he knew her name.

Perhaps noticing her confusion, he smiled and told her, "In the wizarding world, it takes a while for us to arrange student exchange programs, especially if said students are arriving from another world. We have to arrange all sorts of magical precautions to make sure they arrive safely and are able to find their way to their new school. I work under Amelia Bones; she's the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She had me working with people in the Department of International Magical Cooperation and the Department of Magical Transportation to set up a secure Portkey and meet the standards required for inter-worldly travel. It was quite a job, we started nearly two years in advance to prepare everything..."

"So Niko must have signed us up sometime after the pirate attacks," Sandry thought out loud.

"Wonder how he knew we'd be interested in going?" Briar remarked with a grin.

"That's really interesting, Dad. But," George continued, lowering his voice, "what do you mean when you said you were 'on duty'?"

"You heard your father; we are not discussing this here."

Ignoring his mother, George added, "You were guarding it, weren't you? The thing You-Know-Who's after?"

"George, be quiet!" Mrs Weasley hissed in a much sharper tone.

"Anyway," Mr Weasley said, raising his voice, "I was reading the paper before you came, and you know how Willy Widdershin turned out to be the one behind those toilets that kept regurgitating over the summer? Well, this time he's been caught selling biting doorknobs to Muggles and I doubt he'll be able to worm his way out of this one, because according to this article, two Muggles have already lost their fingers and are now in St. Mungo's for emergency bone re-growth and memory modification. Just think of it, Muggles in St. Mungo's!" He looked around eagerly as though expecting to see them walking into the room.

"Dad loves Muggles," Ron whispered to Briar. "He thinks they're fascinating..."

"Didn't you say You-Know-Who's got a big snake, Harry?" asked Fred, looking towards Mr Weasley for a reaction. "A massive one? You saw it the night he returned, didn't you?"

"That's enough," MRs Weasley said crossly. "Mad-Eye and Tonks are outside, Arthur, they want to come and see you. And you lot can wait outside," she added to the seven teenagers. "You can come and say your goodbyes afterwards. Go on."

They trooped back into the corridor, the disgruntled twins leading the way. Moody and Tonks went inside, closing the door tightly behind them. Fred raised his eyebrows.

"Fine," he said coolly. "Don't tell us anything. We'll find out later anyways." He didn't look too convinced of that, though.

"Are you kidding? They'll never tell us what really happened," Ginny said with an annoyed glance towards the door.

"Or, you know, we could always find out now," Briar said slowly.

They all turned to him.

Reaching into the pocket of his jeans, he brought out a handful of what appeared to be long, flesh-coloured pieces of string.

George grinned and shook his head admiringly. "The Extendable Ears. I should've known you would have had some with you."

Briar grinned back and began to untangle them. He passed them around to each person. The others put them eagerly in their ears, but Harry and Sandry hesitated to take them.

"Come on, Harry, take it! You saved Dad's life; if anyone's got the right to eavesdrop on him, it's you."

"All right," Harry muttered, taking the Ear and popping it in.

"It's not exactly an honest way of finding things out," Sandry said hesitantly, although a part of her was indignant at the thought of not being able to know the truth.

Sensing how she was feeling, Briar untangled the last one and passed it to her. "Go on, take it." It's the only way to find out what's going on.

Sandry sighed and shrugged, taking it from him and gingerly fitting one end into her ear. For a moment, she felt the strange sensation of the rubbery material spreading out into the opening of her ear, until it fit perfectly.

"Okay, go!" Fred whispered.

The ends of the strings wriggled like long, skinny snakes through the tiny gap between the tiled floor and the door. At first she couldn't hear anything, but all seven of them suddenly jumped as they heard Tonks whispering as clearly as if she was standing right beside them.

"...they searched the whole area but couldn't find the snake anywhere. It just seems to have vanished after it attacker you, Arthur... but You-Know-Who can't have expected a snake to get in, the security's so tight down there."

"I reckon he sent it as a lookout," came Moody's low growl. "He's not had any luck so far, has he? No, I reckon he's trying to get a clearer picture of what he's facing, and if Arthur hadn't been there, the beast would've had a lot more time to look around." There was a brief pause, and then he asked, "So, Potter says he saw it all happen?"

"Yes," said Mrs Weasley uneasily. "You know, Dumbledore seems almost to have been waiting for Harry to see something like this."

"Yeah, well, there's something funny about the Potter kid, we all know that," Moody said, not unkindly.

"Dumbledore seemed worried about Harry when he called me up this morning," said Tonks nervously.

"Course he's worried," Moody growled. "The boy's seeing things from inside You-Know-Who's snake. Obviously, Potter doesn't realize what that means, but if You-Know-Who's possessing him-"

Beside her, Sandry heard Harry breathe in sharply. He pulled the Ear out of his own and the rest of them did the same. All six of them stared at Harry, confused and afraid.

* * *

**A/N: Ooh, suspense! Poor Harry; I can just imagine how it'd feel to overhear something like that..**

**Well, I've just got one question for all you fabulous people out there:**

***What do you picture happening at the Lovegood's Christmas?***

**Review or PM and let me know.. I'm starting to gather ideas for the next couple chapters, and I'm very curious to hear your thoughts and possibly use them too!**

**So go on and click on that little green button.. go on, click it; you know you want to!**


	23. Chapter 21

Chapter 21 - Snow and Flames

Luna hummed cheerfully to herself as she packed her trunk. With a murmured _"Wingardium Leviosa"_ and a wave of her wand, her spare uniform and her Muggle clothes floated off the bed to land with a heavy thump in her trunk. Carefully picking up the pile of textbooks she was bringing along, she tucked them into the empty corners. Strange, but there always seemed to be less things in her trunk when she packed it for the holidays than there was at the beginning of the year. Whenever she mentioned this, the other Ravenclaws told her that it was because she wasn't bringing her cauldron and potion supplies home during the holidays, which left a fair bit of space. Luna doubted that theory. She suspected it was the Nargles, up to their mischief as always.

The door to their dorm swung open and Tris walked in, carrying two large books in her arms. Luna smiled up at her from her position on the floor.

"Hello, Tris," she greeted her friend, swinging the lid to her trunk shut. She flipped the latch closed and locked it with her wand. "What are you doing here? This isn't your dorm." Luna looked accusingly in the empty space next to the girl's head, noticing a hazy spot of light. "Did the Wrackspurts make your brain go fuzzy? They always act up around the holidays."

Tris smiled slightly. In the time Luna had known her, she had gone from being silent and unemotional to occasionally laughing with her as they talked. "No, actually, I came to talk to you."

"Really?"

"Yes." Tris shifted nervously. "Erm.. do you remember how you invited me to come along to your dad's house for the holidays?"

"Of course I remember! What about it?"

"Well, Sandry and Briar had to leave for.. well, I'm not entirely certain what, but they'll tell me sometime; I'm too far away to talk to them just now," Tris said, tapping her head with her free hand to show that she meant that interesting mind-speech she could do with them. "But I was wondering if maybe Daja and I could both come with you? I know it's pretty short notice, seeing as we'd be leaving today, but I don't really want to leave her out."

Luna grinned. "That'd be great if you both came! Like I said before, Dad won't mind at all; he loves having guests over. And I could show you all around!" she added enthusiastically. "There's this adorable little Muggle town just down the road, and we've got quite a few wizarding families living nearby as well. The Weasleys live just beyond the hill from us."

Tris smiled, clearly relieved. "Thanks so much, Luna. I'll tell Daja to start packing. The train leaves at noon, right?" At her nod, Tris closed her eyes briefly to speak with her foster-sister before thanking her once more and leaving the room.

Luna got up off the floor and straightened her cloak before raising her wand once more to levitate her trunk. Watching it closely, she managed to manoever it down the winding stairs into the common-room before finally dumping it next to the small pile of trunks beside the fireplace. Grabbing her latest copy of _The Quibbler_, she climbed out of the door and walked downstairs.

Entering the Great Hall, Luna made her way over to the Ravenclaw table and took a seat on the far end of the bench, away from everyone else. Opening her magazine, she flipped to page fourteen and continued to read the article on Aquavirius Maggots that she had started last night. Pausing halfway through to spread jam over a piece of toast, she bit into it as she looked around the Hall. It was filled with chatter as the students talked excitedly with each other abotu the Christmas holidays.

A fluttering of wings from above caused everyone to glance upwards briefly towards the rather large group of owls entering the Hall. Some had wrapped parcels tied to their legs, probably for those who were staying at Hogwarts over the holidays. Others carried newspapers, magazines and letters in their claws and beaks.

Luna noticed a tiny brown owl flapping enthusiastically towards the Hufflepuff table as it carried a letter nearly twice its size. Watching it curiously, she laughed to herself as the owl landed on a startled Daja's head, dropping its letter onto her plate of bacon and eggs with a happy hoot. The girl tried to scoop the owl off her head, but it evaded her hands and settled onto her shoulder instead. Giving up, she pulled the letter out of her breakfast and wiped it on her oversized shirt before tearing it open to read.

Returning to her magazine, Luna finished the article and immediately started writing a letter to the Minister of Magic, only looking up when Tris sat down beside her.

"Hello again. Do you have your trunk ready?"

Tris nodded as she poured herself a glass of orange juice. "Yes, and I managed to fit my library books in it too. I'm going to try to read them all over the holidays." Taking a sip of juice, she gestured towards Luna's parchment. "What are you writing?"

Luna held it out to her to read. "I'm writing to the Minister," she informed her friend. "Dad's been doing a lot of interviews with a witch in Germany about the Aquavirius Maggots. He's also found out from a person at the Ministry that they've been trying to breed them here, but they're extremely dangerous and have been known to carry tropical diseases to other countries since they live in water." Luna shook her head sorrowfully as Tris took the letter from her and started to read it. "We believe that the Minister is trying to use them to spy on the magical headquarters of other countries, so I'm writing to warm him about the possible side effects their presence can have, not to mention that spying through lesser creatures is illegal due to section 21 of the Magical Relationships Act of 1843."

Tris hummed thougthfully while reading her letter. "That's really interesting," she said finally. "Maybe you should add something about the fact that they've been declared partially endangered in certain regions of Africa and so he should send whatever ones they do manage breed to the reserve over there?"

Luna beamed. "That's a great idea, it's the perfect solution! Thanks, Tris." The redhead waved off her thanks and grabbed a roll while Luna dipped her quill in her inkpot and continued writing the letter.

She blew gently over her letter to dry it and rolled it up, tying it with a piece of string she had conjured with her wand. She and Tris left the Hall together and went back upstairs to the Ravenclaw tower.

Once they were standing in front of the blank wall, Tris took the knocker and rapped it sharply. Today, the voice greeted them by saying "I seem harmless, but even mountains will fall before me. What am I?"

The two girls looked at each other for a moment, and then Luna grinned and said, "I know what you are; you're Time!"

"Correct." The hidden panel swung smoothly open and they climbed in through the hole.

"The password was a bit different than normal," Tris commented once they were inside. "Normally the knocker just asks a question."

"Around the holidays, the knocker likes to go into riddles, just for a change," Luna told her. "We're lucky, it actually gave us a fairly easy one to answer. Over the holidays last year, I was stuck out in the hall for half an hour trying to figure out the answer to 'I start with E and end with E and yet I only have one letter'."

"What was the answer?"

"An envelope."

**(A/N: I don't know about you, but that one took me forever to figure out; it's rather sad when you think about it :P)**

Tris rolled her eyes. "That's more of a trick question than a test of your intellectual ability," she said, sounding almost insulted.

Luna shrugged. "Well, it was interesting to find out the answer."

They parted briefly at the staircase, but soon met up again after fetching their coats from their dorms. Leaving the common-room once more, they walked back downstairs and into the entrance hall.

Joining the line of students waiting to leave, they soon came to the front and were waved along by Professor Sprout. "Have a nice Christmas," she said cheerfully to them as they left. For once, she had replaced her usual fluffy pink earmuffs with a rather nice red-and-green chequered print. Branches of holly were wrapped around the top of her toque like a crown.

Luna and Tris walked down the path to the line of carriages. Recognizing one of the Thestrals from when she had visited them in the fall, Luna immediately made for that carriage. They were soon joined by Hermione, Neville and a boy from her year that Luna thought she recognized.

"Hello, Tris, Luna," Hermione said with a smile. "Where are you two going for the holidays?"

"We're staying at my house, along with Daja," Luna told her. Turning to the boy, she asked him, "You're Colin, right?"

He grinned widely at her. "Yeah, I am! Can I take a picture of you?" he asked suddenly, turning to face Tris.

She looked startled. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you're pretty cool, you know. I saw what you did during the Quidditch match - that was so awesome! And I was hoping I could get a picture of you to show my dad when I see him." Pausing for breath, he added, "Oh, and maybe you could have some fire in your hair! That'd make a brilliant picture!"

Looking as though she couldn't decide whether to be amused or offended, Tris slowly nodded and said, "All right. What do I have to do?"

"All you have to do is sit there and I'll take the picture with my camera," he said, pulling it up from around his neck.

Tris partially unwound one of the tiny braids that rested against her cheek, letting the miniature lightning bolts flicker up across her hair. She looked slightly amused at the excited look on Colin's face, and it was obvious that she had barely managed to refrain from jumping with surprise as his camera flashed brightly.

"Thanks!" Colin said happily, tucking the camera back into his coat. "Dennis decided to sit with his friends in another carriage, he'll be so jealous that I got to meet you. I'll send a copy of the picture to you once I develop it."

Tris shrugged. "Whatever you want."

"Oh, look, there's Neville! He must have missed the carriages!" Hermione cried suddenly, pointing out the window.

Following the direction of her finger, Luna saw the Griffindor boy running through the snow as he tried to catch up with the carriage. She turned around to open the front window and called to their Thestral, "Can you stop for a moment, please? Our friend wants to get on." The Thestral raised its head as though listening to her before coming to a stop.

In the brief period of time before the carriage continued moving, Neville managed to climb into the carriage and fall into the empty space beside Colin. "Thanks," he panted, swinging the door shut to keep out the snow that was swirling in.

Hermione gave Luna an odd look, which she ignored, instead closing the window. She though that it was rather unfortunate that Hermione took books too literally to fully understand the complexity of magical creatures.

Turning back to Neville, Luna asked him why he was late.

Catching his breath, Neville said, "I was helping your sister, Tris, what's her name? Oh right, it's Daja. She came up to the tower after breakfast to fetch Briar's tree."

"His _shakkan_?"

"Yeah, that's it. She was stopped at the gate by Sprout, who wanted to take a look at the _shakkan_. This was the last carriage in sight before the first ones come back up the hill, so I ran for it. I wasn't certain that I'd make it." He smiled around at them in obvious relief.

"I wonder why she brought his _shakkan_?" Tris muttered to herself.

"Perhaps she's being mind-controlled," Luna said seriously. "Nargle possession had been known to have a surprisingly wide range of effects."

"What are you doing for the holidays, Neville?" Hermione asked, barely managing to stop rolling her eyes at Luna's comment.

"Nothing much, really. I'm staying with my gran; we're going to have Christmas dinner with the whole family. Other than that, I'll just be hanging around London. What about you?"

"My parents are taking me skiing."

"Skiing? What's that?" Neville asked her curiously.

"It's a Muggle sport," Hermione said, gesturing with her hands as she tried to explain. "Basically, they strap two long, skinny boards called skis onto their shoes and slide down the side of a mountain on them." At the other's looks of confusion, she sighed and said, "It's supposed to be a lot of fun, my parents thought I might enjoy it."

"Oh look, we're at the station," Luna said, looking out the window. She waited for the three Griffindors to climb out of the carriage before following them to the train.

On the station, rows of trunks were laid out. Luna and Tris went down each row and eventually found theirs, sitting in the midst of a cluster of shouting third-years. They parted immediately to let them through, eyeing Tris with respect, and waited until the two had left before continuing their argument of who owned each trunk.

They used their wands to levitate their trunks up the steps into the train. Leading the way down the long passageway, Luna peered into each compartment until she found an empty one.

"Over here, Tris," she called, sliding open the door. She rolled her trunk underneath the window, helping Tris to do the same before sitting down on the bench opposite hers.

Something banged into the wall, and Tris jumped in surprise. "What was that?"

"I don't know." Standing up, Luna opened the door and looked around the corner to see Daja there, with the tiny brown owl on her shoulder, a large pot containing a tree cradled in one arm and a wand in her other hand. A sturdy trunk was tipped up against the wall beside the door.

"Sorry," Daja said, shifting the tree in her arm. "Lost control of the trunk."

"Don't worry about it," Luna said cheerfully as she picked up the trunk and carried it into their compartment. Daja followed her, placing her pot in the empty space beside Tris before going to sit next to Luna. The owl hooted reproachfully from its precarious position on her shoulder as she twisted sideways to tuck her wand into her coat pocket.

"Why did you bring Briar's _shakkan_?" Tris asked her sister curiously as the train jolted forwards. "And why is there an owl on you?"

"Isn't that the owl that gave you a letter during breakfast?" Luna asked, holding out her hand to the owl. It eyed her curiously and then hopped onto her hand, fitting perfectly into her palm.

Daja nodded, handing a grease-stained piece of parchment to Tris. "Ruined a perfectly good plate of bacon, too."

Tris read the letter aloud. "_Hey Daj, can you take care of my _shakkan_ while me and Sandry are off with the Weasleys? Sorry, I can't tell you where we are, the adults won't let us, but we can still send owls. I'm borrowing Ron's to send this to you. His name's Pidwidgeon, can you believe that? Anyways, we're both safe and snuggled up like tame little lambkins in this big old house_ - then there's a huge spot of ink - _sorry, forgot I couldn't tell you anything. Curse this quill, it's driving me crazy. Anyways, say hi to Coppercurls for me when you next talk to her. Briar._" She frowned. "Despite me teaching him how to read and Rosethorn having approved his writing on her medicine labels, his spelling is still atrocious."

"I borrowed some of his notes from Herbology once to study for a test Snape was giving us on the uses of different plants in potion-making. Whenever he's writing anything about plants, his writing becomes the neatest, best-spelled you could imagine," Daja remarked with a grin.

"So that's why you took so long; you were getting his _shakkan _and carrying it down," Luna said.

"And that's also why Sprout stopped me. She really wanted to get to look at it," Daja added. Glancing at Tris, she added, "I haven't sent his a reply yet, I wanted to show it to you first."

Flipping open her trunk, Tris pulled out a flat wooden box and handed it to Daja. "Here's my writing set."

"Thanks." Daja opened the box and pulled out some parchment and a Self-Inking quill. "Let's see, what shall I write to him?"

"Tell him you're going to stay at my house with Tris," Luna suggested.

"And that you're bringing his _shakkan_ with you. Oh, and tell him to say hi to Sandry for us," Tris added.

Carefully writing out the letter, Daja nodded. "There, it's done." She rolled it up and then reached out towards the owl. "Come here, er, Pidwidgeon. I've got a letter for you."

The owl held out one leg to her and took the letter in his talons before flapping his wings and rising up into the air. He hooted once, rapping the window with his beak.

"Oh, we need to open the window," Luna said, reaching up to slide it open. The owl flew out and was immediately blown past them as the train sped along the rails.

Daja yawned. "It took forever for me to get to sleep last night after seeing Dumbledore, I'm absolutely exhausted. But I guess I'd better finish up my essay for Umbridge on counter-curses. Oti log her, she's been making us work nonstop out of that _Defensive Magical Theory_ book. I'm so glad Harry's been teaching us properly." Pulling her trunk towards her, she flipped open her textbook and started writing on a new sheet of parchment.

"Do you want to play Exploding Snap with me while we're on the train?" Luna asked Tris, pulling out a deck of cards from her coat pocket.

"All right, I'll play one game," Tris said, "but then I'm going to start reading through my library books."

That one game turned into well over an hour's worth of cards, Chocolate Frogs and talking as all three of them joined in; even Hermione and Neville came by their compartment to play. With wind and snow blowing past their window and the warmth of the flaming cards on their faces, it was a rather cozy return trip, and all of them were sad to see it end.

* * *

**A/N: I am incredibly sorry for the long time this took to update! School has been absolutely crazy, there's barely enough time at the end of the day to study and practise for band class without adding in extra time for writing. I'm sorry if this chapter seems a bit shorter than usual, it was originally going to be much longer but I figured that you had all waited long enough :) Thanks for all the fantastic reviews and support you've given this story, I can't express how much it's appreciated!**

**On a related note, I've now got a new poll up.. vote and review pls!**

**Lyrannae~**


	24. Chapter 22

Chapter 22: In which a variety of strange creatures are introduced

_The History of the Wand, Chapter Twelve: The Significance of the Wand Tree_

_Since ancient times, wizards and witches have tried to determine why certain wands were more easily used by them while others refused to channel their magic. "The wand chooses the wizard" is a common saying among wand-makers, yet the reason for why exactly this is has always been unknown. To this day, there is no proven cause for this phenomenon, but many theories concerning the composition of the wands have been brought forth._

_Sir Alaric Dunstan, an acclaimed warlock of the 1800s, performed many experiments with wands in which he varied the type of wood used. He found that wands with firmer wood such as oak were typically more capable in casting offensive spells with great strength, while the lighter, more flexible wands had higher abilities with healing and protective charms. His theory that wood type affected the power of spells held for the rest of the century, despite the criticism of many of his fellow wand masters. On his deathbed in 1864, he admitted in a newspaper article that the results of his tests were likely inconclusive. The main reason for this was that he had to use different test subjects for each wand, seeing as no one wizard could use every wand without at least minor difficulties._

_In December of 1924, Professor R. Trieste presented to the Department of Magical Equipment Control a record of all the studies he had undertaken to determine more about wands._

"_Having travelled all across Europe, I have uncovered a variety of legends pertaining to the different species of trees," he wrote. "Mythology, though seemingly inconsequential to Muggles, often relates to our magical world as any philosopher knows. I have determined that the type of wood your wand is constructed from reflects on legends from such ancient cultures as the Druids, Celts, Romans and Greeks. Theorists (both Muggle and magical) of the old countries were very knowledgeable in the studies of nature and were adept at connecting natural occurrences to their legends and stories."_

Tris looked up thoughtfully and turned the page to see a huge, handwritten list of trees that covered the entire sheet of paper. Glancing through, she spotted Alder almost immediately and tapped the word with her wand, causing the other words on the page to vanish and be replaced by several paragraphs.

_Believed by the Druids to be a tree of death and resurrection, the Alder represents the evolving spirit. Showing both a fierce resistance to water and the angry spirit of fire, those whose minds are of the Alder are powerful and adventurous, often leaving their family and friends behind to pursue their own way in the world._

_The month of Alder is said to be January, named for Janus, the two-faced Roman god who symbolized beginnings and endings, past and future. Witches and wizards with wands of Alder are thought to be most competent with powers involving divination, prophecy, weather and more offensive magic._

"Well, that's interesting," Tris said to herself, slightly disturbed by the description the book gave. Tapping the book again, she returned to the main page and scanned down the lists of trees until she found Birch.

_The Birch is a tree of great determination, grace and beauty whose name is thought to have derived from the Aglo-Saxon term for protection and shelter, Beorgan. People compared to the Birch are determined and loyal to those who are close to them, not to mention being extremely hard workers who prefer to keep a low profile._

_The month of Birch is November, the New Year in the Celtic calendar, and as such is a month for new beginnings and purification. Those with wands of Birch are very good at cleansing and healing and also excel at casting protective charms, as they have a strong resistance to failure._

"That describes Sandry perfectly," Daja said with a chuckle from where she sat reading over Tris' shoulder. "Why did you bring that book, Tris?"

Looking up at her, Tris shrugged. "I was curious to see if I could find out anything else about our wands. There wasn't enough time to read at school."

"Well, keep going through them," Daja said as she leaned over to tap the page. "Who's next?"

"I've been going alphabetically... so that'd be you." Bringing up the information for Hawthorn, the two bent over the book to read it.

_Associated with both the sacred and the unlucky, the Hawthorn was considered a tree of psychic protection due to the fairies nesting in its branches. Through ancient rituals, the Hawthorn came to symbolize shedding old layers in order to give ground to the new. With the deity of Govanna, the Blacksmith God, those of Hawthorn are good strategists and delight in working with their hands._

_The month of Hawthorn is right between April and May, known as the coming of spring and the growing of crops. Those in possession of Hawthorn wands are evenly skilled with offensive and defensive magic, and are highly capable with using nonverbal spells. _

Tris glanced over at Daja. "Have you ever tried nonverbal spells?"

"Not yet," Daja said, frowning thoughtfully. "Maybe I should try them sometime?"

"I think Harry was planning on teaching us some later on in the year."

Daja grinned. "He's planning to work with a lot of the more complicated spells after Christmas. It's really exciting to think about."

Tris nodded in agreement as she turned back to the book in her lap. "Well, let's look up Briar then."

_Believed to guard the gateway to the spirit world, the Rowan was said to be a tree of protection, insight and courage. People of the Rowan are true individuals who, despite their impatience with restrictions and their difficulty with following others, are very imaginative and have diverse interests. _

_The month of Rowan is December, named for the Roman goddess Decima, who as the middle of the Fates was the personification of the present. Witches and wizards who have been chosen by Rowan wands are talented with healing and divination, and are recorded as sometimes being able to lend their great strength to others in times of need._

As Tris opened her mouth to speak, the wheels of the train began to screech and they were pulled backwards as the train slowed down. Slowly, the forward motion of the train lessened, until at last with one final puff of steam and grinding of wheels it slid to a halt. Tris glanced out the window; through the clouds of steam she could just make out the large sign that declared the name of the platform as being 9 ¾.

Reaching down to snap open her trunk, she slid the large textbook into it before closing it tightly and picking it up by the handle. Luna and Daja also took their trunks, the blonde girl leading the way out the door and the other two followed behind her. At the train's door, Tris clumsily climbed down the steps and onto the platform. Looking nervously at the huge crowd of people gathered around them, she hurried after Luna, who was standing in the empty space next to one of the stone pillars with a tall, white-haired man.

Luna smiled happily at her, her wide blue eyes sparkling. "Tris, this is my dad. Dad, this is Tris, and there's Daja." The black girl was talking quietly with a couple of her Hufflepuff friends.

"Nice to meet you, Mr Lovegood," Tris said politely, setting down her trunk to shake his hand. _Daja, come over and say hello, _she said to her sister.

_Be right there._

"Please, call me Xenophilius," the man told her, shaking her hand absentmindedly in a way that was similar to his daughter's. "Hello, er, Daji, was that your name?" he added as Daja walked forward.

"It's Daja, actually. Daja Kisubo."

"My apologies. Well, let's go out to the car, shall we?" Xenophilius flicked his wand, causing Tris to blink in surprise when all three of the girl's trunks started shrinking. She scooped her trunk up off the ground, putting it into the pocket of her coat. Daja picked up Briar's _shakkan_ with both hands, settling it into the curve of her arm.

They followed the man and his daughter through the brick wall and out the main doors of the station, walking for several minutes down the street before they came to an alleyway and turned down it. Daja and Tris exchanged a confused look as they eyed the dark shadows and doorways leading into the alley, the former putting her hand on the top of her staff, but they kept following the two until they came to a small, blue car.

"I always park far away from the station," Xenophilius explained as he opened one of the side doors for them to go inside. "Have you heard of the Flat-footed Pimperduck? They nest in large, occupied areas, preferably near a source of heat, and they love collecting metal. I lost two cars to them, the last times I parked in the station lot. This is far enough away that they won't come nearby; it's too cold for them."

Tris nodded politely as she climbed into the car. Inside, it was small and cramped, with thick cushions on the seats and strange dials and buttons lining the upper half of the walls. The windows were dark, although whether they were dirty or it was done on purpose was impossible to tell.

Daja frowned. _How can the whatever-it-is live near humans, and carry away cars? They must be huge, invisible.. things.._

"Pimperducks like to tear off small pieces of metal to line their nests," Luna explained as though she had somehow heard Daja. Climbing into the seat next to her dad, she added, "When a whole flock of them are living together, they team up and take enough metal to destroy whole automobiles."

"That's interesting," Daja said honestly. Turning to Xenophilius, she asked him, "Do you study magical creatures?"

"Me? Oh, no, that's just a hobby. Excuse me a moment, I seem to have misplaced my keys…" he muttered, reaching into a crack in the material of the purple cushion seat he was sitting on.

"Dad runs the Quibbler. He's the editor," Luna told Daja proudly. "I write articles for him sometimes, but mostly he gets me to do research. We're planning a trip to Sweden in the summer to look for Crumple-Horned Snorkacks."

"Aha, there it is," Xenophilius said with obvious relief as he pulled out something that Tris recognized. She had been playing chess with Hermione and Ron one day in the library, and one of the pieces looked just like the item Xenophilius now held in his hand.

"It's a knight," she said aloud as the name came to her, reddening slightly when the others turned to look at her.

"Indeed," Xenophilius said, "but it's also a car key." Flipping open a small cap next to the wheel, he slid the horse's head into a small hole that was the right shape to fit it perfectly. Poking at a large, triangular button positioned above the hole, the engine turned on, and Xenophilius pushed down a lever and carefully backed the car out of the alley.

As they rode out onto the sidewalk, there was a sudden crash and Tris turned around to see that the side of the car had knocked over a newspaper stand. "Sorry about that," Xenophilius said as he kept backing out and drove off on the wrong side of the road, narrowly missing a bus as he swerved into the correct lane.

Daja groaned softly and said, just loud enough for Tris to hear, "Time for another wild ride." She grabbed onto the edge of the seat as they swerved sharply to the left, turning out of the busier road into a much quieter one. Tris held onto the _shakkan_'s pot, not wanting it to get damaged.

After several more turns, they had entered into the countryside. Splashing through a road that had once been dirt but now resembled a pool of mud, they continued driving farther and farther out until the city behind them was completely out of sight. Pulling the first lever back into place, Xenophilius pushed yet another button, this one with a large green stardrawn across it. Almost immediately, the car wobbled slightly before rising into the air with the help of a pair of metal wings that had unfolded from the sides.

"No wonder your car looked so thick from the outside," Tris commented as she watching the wings flapping, blowing small gusts of fog and cloud away with every beat.

"It's really quite interesting, isn't it?" Luna said thoughtfully. "Mr Weasley helped Dad to cast the right spells on it, but we thought the wings added a rather nice touch to the overall look. Not that we can fly it anywhere the Muggles might see us, but still."

They coasted through the air while Luna pointed out the scenery around them. "There's the Weasley's house," she said, gesturing towards a tall, lopsided building on the flat area of ground below one particularly large hill.

On approaching this hill, Xenophilius brought the nose of the car down to land it. Seeing both him and Luna bracing themselves for the impact, Tris reached out a magical finger and stirred up the wind outside, using the strong forces of an Eastern wind to bring the car to a rolling stop on the ground.

"Well, it looks like my parking has improved, at least," Xenophilius said, pushing the lever forwards once more and continuing to drive along the road they had landed on. As he drove, Luna looked back at Tris and grinned, obviously having realized that she was the one who had truly landed their car. Tris smiled back at her, gently releasing her winds and letting them return to the sky.

As they came over the hill, what appeared to be a large cylinder resting on the hill took shape into a large, tall cylinder that stretched from the valley beyond into the sky. Xenophilius stopped the car just in front of a large gate.

"All right, Luna, I'll take the car around back to park it while you take your friends inside," Xenophilius said, flicking a switch to unlock their doors. Daja climbed out, breathing in the fresh air thankfully while Tris clambered over the seat to go out her door. Luna went up ahead to open the gate for them while the two looked across the front yard at their house.

It stretched up into the sky like one of the towers at Hogwarts, except that top was flat rather than pointed. The doors and windows were all curved so as to line up smoothly with the rounded walls.

Walking through the gate, Tris glanced at the ground to see what looked like large cans that had been placed along the path up to their house. Luna bent in front of one and lifted it up gently so that they could see the bushy plant underneath. It had tiny orange radishes growing from its branches, just like the earrings Luna wore.

"These are Dirigible Plums," Luna told them, carefully placing the can back over it, "We have to cover them up in winter or else they'll freeze. They're very frail."

She led them up the path to their house and pulled open the door, leading them into a perfectly round kitchen. Painted with bright colours, it was slightly overwhelming at first.

"Come on, I'll take you upstairs," Luna said as she started to climb up a winding iron staircase in the centre of the room. Daja and Tris followed her up the stairs, looking out into each floor as they went by.

The second floor seemed to be a combination of a living room and a workplace. A large, wooden machine piled with Quibblers stood silent in the corner next to a large beanbag chair with a patchwork quilt thrown over it. Several low tables piled with books and papers ran along the walls, and delicate wooden models of strange creatures hung from the ceiling.

As Tris walked up the steps, she kept seeing what looked to be her own face out of the corner of her eye. Reaching the landing on the third floor, she walked off the staircase into what could only be Luna's room to see that her eyes hadn't been playing tricks on her.

Carefully painted onto the ceiling above Luna's circular bed was a set of six portraits. She had painted the faces of Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Tris and Neville onto the smooth surface of the ceiling. An intricate golden chain wrapped around each person's face, and when Tris looked closer, she saw that it was one word, _Friends_, repeated over and over with a tiny brush.

Glancing around the rest of the room, Tris saw that much of the furniture was curved to fit the shape of the walls. With the staircase in the middle, it was obvious that much planning had gone into designing the layout of the room. Handmade posters of magical creatures were stuck to the walls alongside a Ravenclaw banner. A squat wooden desk was positioned underneath the round window, with a tray of paint and a can full of brushes placed on top.

"I've not quite finished the painting yet," Luna said, coming to stand by Tris as the latter returned her gaze to the ceiling, "but it's looking pretty good already."

"It looks amazing," Tris replied.

Daja spoke up from the window. "What are those things down over there?"

"Oh, that's our grove of Plumphing Dinckletrees," Luna told her, wandering over to the window. "We'll go out later this evening to pick one out and bring it inside to decorate for Christmas."

"So, where do you want us to sleep?" Tris asked, glancing once more around the small room.

Luna gestured upstairs. "Dad got the spare room ready. You two can sleep up there, or downstairs if you'd prefer. We've got lots of room."

"I'd almost rather be upstairs," Tris said, thinking longingly of her bed at the peak of the Ravenclaw tower.

She returned to climbing up the stairs, coming up to the very top of the house. Here, the staircase ended, although a tiny set of stairs curved around the side of the room to a door in the ceiling.

_The ceiling's so low, _Daja commented as she came up the stairs behind Tris. _It makes the room really cozy._ She placed Briar's _shakkan _on the floor, in a patch of sun next to the window.

Tris pulled her trunk out of her pocket and placed it onto a skinny, curved bed at the back of the room. From below, Luna called up, "Dad will come up in a few minutes to resize your trunks. Oh, while you're waiting, go up the balcony steps, Tris, I think you'll like the view."

"View?" Tris whispered as the realization came to her. Those steps could only lead to one place; the top of the house. And it must be open to the air, it had to be.

Without further ado she sped up the stairs, lifting her skirts with one hand so they wouldn't trip her feet up. Sliding the latch back on the square door, she jumped back as it rotated down. The side now facing her had small blocks of wood attached to it at various positions, and she was able to use them to brace her feet as she climbed up.

On top of the roof at last, Tris breathed in the fresh air with relish. Skipping along to the edge, she looked out over the entire valley and the hills beyond; from here, she could just barely see the top of the Weasley's house. With the winds gently swirling around her, she felt completely at home. She left briefly to grab her books, newly restored to their original size, before returning to lie on the roof and read.

"_Saati_, come on down for dinner!" Daja called up the stairs. Looking up, Tris was surprised to see how much the sky had darkened. Hurriedly she scooped up her books and climbed back inside, all the way down the spiralling staircase to the bottom floor.

"This is my kind of house," she announced as she entered the kitchen.

Xenophilius glanced up from the counter, where he was stirring something in a large pot as Luna and Daja set the table.

"Oh, so you like it, then?" he asked her.

"Very much, sir. Thank you so much for letting us stay here on such short notice."

"It's no problem, no problem at all," he assured her. Picking up the pot, he carried it to the table.

The three girls sat down and Xenophilius lifted the lid off his pot to release a warm, spicy scent. "Everyone requests my recipe for Freshwater Plimpy Soup," he told them as he ladled generous amounts into each bowl. "It's a traditional recipe, been in the family for nearly seven generations." Putting the pot back on the stove, he said, "Well, dig in, everybody."

Tasting the soup, Tris had to admit that it was very delicious. The taste was a bit strange at first; the spices Xenophilius used on his fish were rather different than what she had gotten used to at Hogwarts, and the texture of the meat was also different. Regardless, she liked it so much that she ended up eating two helpings. Daja enjoyed it too, although she asked and received permission to raid the Lovegood's pantry so that she could add some extra spices to her soup in the way she liked it.

After supper, they went outside to look for a Christmas tree, just as Luna had promised. Wrapped up tightly in their coats and scarves, they followed Xenophilius through the thin layer of snow. Looking ahead, Tris thought the grove of trees looked rather short in comparison to the height of most trees, and when they got close enough she could see that the height of the trees was short.

Walking into the center of the grove, Xenophilius strode off down the rows, a short axe swung over his shoulder. The three girls stayed behind, looking at the trees.

Squat and low to the ground, they were very round, with thick branches stretching out from every angle. Instead of having leaves or needles, there were large berries coloured in shades of blue and green growing along the length of every branch. A thick, woolly hat perched on the tip of each tree, making their overall appearance rather comical.

"I've never seen trees like these before," Tris commented as she looked them over.

"They're native to Austria," Luna told her. "Before I was born, my mother was visiting some relatives there, and they had a whole forest of them. She brought back some of the Dinckburrs - the berries - to show Dad, and when they planted them, they grew into new trees."

Daja knelt down by one tree to study it closer. "They smell funny," she remarked, frowning. "Sort of like cinnamon, and... something fruity..."

"We think the scent attracts Blibbering Humdingers," Luna said as she straightened one of the woolly hats. "Dad and I have been trying to lure them up to the house, but they're very smart. We don't want to catch them, just get a picture of them or something so that we can study them. But they don't know that, of course, so they fly away as soon as we get close to them."

Tris pulled off her gloves and gently touched one of the trees. "I think Briar would like to see these," she said. "He loves trees."

"Maybe we can send him some of the Dinckburrs," Luna suggested. Turning around, she called after Xenophilius, "Dad, do you need any help?"

"No, that's all right," he called as he walked back towards them. He had his axe in one hand, and was holding one of the Dinckletrees in the other by the trunk. "Let's get this one into a pot; I think I've got one at the house already..."

Sure enough, a large ceramic pot was sitting right next to the front door. Luna and Tris dragged it inside while Daja grabbed a small bag of soil that had been resting against the wall and carried it in as well.

Somehow, they managed to carry the pot, tree, axe and soil up the stairs. Once at the top, Xenophilius patiently waited for the girls to fill the pot with soil before handing the tree over to Luna. His hands free at last, he pulled out his wand and used a spell to tidy up the room, tossing books back onto their shelves and stacking papers neatly on the tables.

That night, after a fun hour of draping the tree with shiny foil and hanging tiny gold and silver balls from the ceiling of the room, Tris lay in her bed listening to Daja's even breathing as she slept. Reaching up one hand, she could just touch the ceiling of their room. Up against the ceiling, Tris could feel a thin breeze rolling along the back of her hand from a crack in the round window. Rolling over onto her side, she pulled the thick quilt tightly around herself, and fell fast asleep.

**A/N: Well, another chapter done at last. I tried to finish this up as fast as I could.. ended up typing most of it during school, but hey, whatever works, right?.. **

**You've all been absolutely fantastic, thanks so much for all your support! I love you guys so much; you're my unofficial motivation team to get my schoolwork done so that I can type :D**

**Keep reading and reviewing! And hey, if anyone knows anything about religions in Britain, PM me.. I've got some questions for you..**

**Lyrannae**


	25. Return of the AN

I am so incredibly sorry.

Major homework + major exams + major writer's block = major decrease in writing for a painfully long amount of time = major frustration and sadness and guilt. (Now there's an equation you won't learn in math class.)

To sum that all up: I am a sad, sorry excuse of a writer.

School has me completely stressed out. Life has become crazy. I know I promised to update faster, and I feel terrible for delaying it this long, but I'm afraid it's going to have to be put on hold for a little bit longer.

I love writing, but you know what I dislike the most about it? When you've planned out exactly what you're going to write about -the whole sequence of events- and either you can't immediately find the right words to make it sound like what you wanted it to and have to live with something lesser than what you initially planned, or you just don't have enough time to wrestle with the dictionary and do multiple rewrites and edits to try and figure out which words you want to use.

I'll be gone for a bit, but I will be back soon. Just give me time to finish up my last few exams. Once they're over, I should have more time, not to mention brain capacity, and will most definitely be able to finish up chapter 23.

I will be back. School will not defeat me.

Until then.. just go chill with a good book.

Again-- huge apologies.

And hugs and cookies to everyone who's stuck this far with me... and the Circle, and the Golden Trio, and the little bits of magic in our everyday lives... despite the incredibly randomness of updates, not to mention lack thereof, and the overall busyness of life in general.

Lyrannae


	26. Chapter 23

**A/N: Thanks so much for all your support and patience with me. Sorry for not replying to all your reviews; I really do appreciate them!! Needless to say, exams have been conquered for now, and I will be trying to update much much faster than what this took to get out. Though updates may still occasionally be 'few and far between' they will most definitely be worth the wait. You guys certainly deserve at least that much. **

**well, that's enough talking; just read :D**

* * *

Chapter 23: The Wonders of Ottery St Catchpole

Despite the cold weather, Daja had thought winter at Hogwarts was fun, but staying with the Lovegoods made it seem even better. Every day of their holiday was filled with something different to do.

The entire first two days of their break were spent decorating. The appearance of everything inside and outside the house had to be suited to the holidays in one way or another. Since Xenophilius was often busy upstairs working on his newspaper, Luna led them in their decoration traditions.

For the first day, they focused entirely on the inside of the house. While Daja used small tacks to pin chains of shiny tinsel along the walls and ceilings, Tris sat at the kitchen with needles and thread, stringing red berries and pieces of popcorn together that she later tied along the doorframes. Luna seemed to be everywhere at once; hanging up more of the gold and silver balls around the house, wrapping strands of brightly-coloured lights around the winding staircase, and popping popcorn on the stove. They went through many packets of the crunchy snack, though admittedly most of it was eaten rather than used for decorations.

The day before, Luna had taken them outside to work on making the exterior of the house just as festive. They gathered long, flexible branches from several enchanted pine trees that grew nearby and carried them back to the house, winding them around wooden lattices that were built around the first floor. By the time they had wound the last branch on, the house looked as though it had thick pine bushes growing around its base.

Thinking about Briar, Daja had wondered aloud why they were wrapping branches around the house, since not being planted in the ground would mean that they would soon be dead. She knew Briar wouldn't exactly approve of plants being treated as non-living ornaments.

Luna merely laughed. "They _are_ from magical pines," she pointed out, explaining that overnight the ends of the branches would find their way into the ground and form new roots. The new bushes would have a short life span, she added, but they would live for a couple months at least, and the pine scent would infuse the entire first floor of the house in the meantime.

The blonde girl managed to drag Xenophilius outside for what she called 'a quick break' to help them, but soon turned into a full afternoon. While the girls unfolded chains of huge, magically glowing golden stars, Xenophilius, as the only adult in the house, used several Temporary Sticking Charms to wrap the chains around the higher walls. Soon the entire top half house of the house appeared to be faintly glowing despite the afternoon sun.

Daja woke up early the next day, and after changing into her tunic and breeches she went out onto the roof with her staff. As the sun rose, she stretched and practised with her staff, swinging it around and behind her and lashing out at imaginary opponents. She hadn't had so much time to loosen up since before they had first arrived at Hogwarts; the teachers weren't exactly approving of fighting, even if it was just for practise. She had done a bit during their DA meetings, but getting time by herself out in the open air reminded her of the old days when she used to spar with Briar.

Tris joined her on the roof shortly after sunrise. "It's going to be a nice day today," she commented, looking out towards the sun. "A bit of wind, but it'll be a warm wind; there won't be any more snow for a few days at least."

"Well, you would know." Daja laid her staff on the ground and sat down next to her.

"We should meditate," Tris said, adjusting her skirt over her knees so that she could sit cross-legged.

Daja nodded and copied her position before remembering. "We have to make a protective circle."

"I've got it." Running her fingers through her hair, Tris pulled out a small handful of sparks. Turning to look over each shoulder in turn, she pointed around them and the sparks settled into the top of the roof in a rough circle. Pushing her hand upwards, she pushed up the lightning, spreading it around them until they were encased in a thin, flickering bubble.

_Thanks,_ Daja said to her. She rested her hands on her knees and closed her eyes, finding it easy to slip into the breathing pattern. Slowly, she sunk into the core of her powers, pulling them closely around her. She could feel Tris beside her, a whirlwind of power that was slowly being forced into obeying its mistress.

She didn't notice time passing; here, inside her mind, time had no meaning. The two of them had such good concentration by now that an outsider would have seen no motion from either of them for the most part of an hour.

Finally, Daja opened her eyes. Rolling her shoulders to get the stiffness out of her neck, she looked around and saw Luna watching her from outside the circle, a tray of food in her hands.

_Is it breakfast yet?_ Tris asked, her eyes still closed.

_I think Luna's brought some food up for us._

The redhead opened her eyes immediately. Reaching out to touch the lightning wall, she pulled the sparks back into her hands, from which they crawled up her arms and sunk into her hair. Luna came and sat down beside them as Tris retied one of her braids.

"Good morning," she greeted them, placing the tray in the centre. "I hope I didn't disturb you."

"Don't worry about it; I think we were finishing up anyways," Daja replied. "Thanks for bringing up some food."

"I decided to come eat up here, and I assumed you would already be here, since you weren't downstairs." She took off the lid of the tray, revealing several plates of toast and fruit as well as a pitcher of juice.

Daja poured herself a glass of juice and looked out across the sky. There were no clouds; just blue sky and warm sunlight.

"Looks like you were right about the weather, Tris," she said to her sister with a grin.

"Of course I was right," Tris replied, taking a bite of toast.

"You know," Luna said thoughtfully, "today is the nicest day we've had in a long time. It'd be a good day to take you down to the Muggle town. We could do some Christmas shopping." She sipped her juice and continued. "My dad and I don't do a huge gift exchange like some people, but we do like to get each other something."

"Maybe we could buy something for Briar and Sandry," Daja said to Tris. "Do you have any money?"

She wiped off her fingers, greasy from the buttered toast. "I've got almost all of mine left over from the beginning of the year. I do need to buy a new quill and some more ink though. Oh, and a few more flasks for Potions. I keep forgetting."

"Between you and me, we should have enough to get each of them something," Daja reassured her. "I've only spent a bit from when we were in Hogsmeade."

"Well then, it's settled," Luna said cheerfully, biting into an orange Dirigible Plum. "We'll walk down to Ottery St Catchpole after breakfast."

They ate fairly quickly and were getting ready to leave when Xenophilius called down the stairs to them, "Luna, don't forget the grocery list! We need more bread and flour and, er, milk, and..."

"It's all right, Dad, I've got it," she called back, and with that they left the house.

Scarves waving out behind them in the gentle wind that had picked up, the three girls walked down the snow-coated path. It wasn't a long walk, but not exactly a short one either, and only after passing over the large hill that hid the Lovegood's eccentric house from sight as well as several smaller ones were they able to see the town ahead of them. They walked through a group of trees scattered across the path and carefully stepped across a slippery wooden bridge before finally entering into the group of small buildings that made up the town of Ottery St Catchpole.

The town was rather small, about the size of Hogsmeade. As they walked down the main street, Luna pointed out the various shops and buildings lining both sides.

"Over there is a post office… and see next to it, that's a paper shop; they sell all kinds of notebooks and writing tools there." Glancing around, Luna lowered her voice and continued on. "This is a Muggle town, but lots of wizarding families have settled here. The Fawcetts, the Diggorys, even the Weasleys live here, their house is out on the edge of the town."

"They're able to live right alongside the Muggles without them figuring anything out?" Daja asked her.

"Yes, though it's quite a bit harder to hide in such a small town, and so there are a few Muggles who know about us. Any single wizards or witches that come here often end up marrying into Muggle families. Like the Facios; they run the pharmacy," Luna commented, gesturing towards a small, square building with a flat roof. A sign in the window advertised a two-for-one sale on cough medicine; below it, several small piles of boxes and jars were stacked. "Mrs Facio is a witch, and when she got married, they decided to open up an apothecary for both magical and non-magical folk. They sell potion ingredients, magical remedies, things like that. The Ministry lets them keep running the shop as long as all their wizarding supplies are stored in a room that's locked with magic to prevent any Muggles from accidentally buying lacewing flies or Acromantula venom. An accident like that could become quite a catastrophe."

"I wonder if they sell flasks there," Tris said thoughtfully.

"We can go in and look around," Luna said, leading them across the street to the shop. "It's a rather interesting store."

A small tinkling of bells rang out as they opened the door. The room was smaller than it appeared to be from the outside. Directly opposite the door was a long counter, behind which sat a middle-aged man wearing a loose white coat who was typing on a Muggle computer. Glancing up as they entered, he nodded to Luna, pushing his thick glasses farther up on his nose from where they had slid down.

"Hello, Miss Lovegood," he greeted her.

"Good morning, Mr Facio," she replied cheerfully. "How are you doing?"

"Good, good, business is doing well," he responded just as the phone rang. "Excuse me, I should answer this," he said quickly, grabbing the phone up. "Ottery Pharmacy, how can I help you?"

Tris had wandered off to the other side of the store and was looking through the shelves. _Look at all these medicines,_ she commented to Daja. _Things for coughs, colds, headache, allergies… even without magic, Muggles certainly have their own way of healing people._

"Luna, dear!" A short woman came around one of the shelves and smiled at Luna. "It's good to see you again. How are you? And your father, how is he doing?"

"We're good, thank you," Luna smiled back.

"That's good." She straightened her apron and turned to face Daja. "And who are these?"

"These are two of my friends from school," Luna told her. "Daja and Tris. They're here on an exchange program, so I thought I'd show them around town."

"That's nice of you. It's certainly nice to see some young people in here; most of them still prefer to go down to Diagon. Do you need anything from the back?"

Luna glanced briefly around the room. "I think Tris needed some more flasks, if you have any."

"Yes, of course. Come with me." She led them around the counter to a small door tucked behind a wide closet and almost completely hidden from sight from the front of the room. Pulling out a slender golden wand, she flicked it towards the door and whispered "_Alohomora_."

"There you go, dear," she said, tucking the wand back in the wide pocket of her apron. "Let me know once you've finished up so I can lock the door again."

The three girls squeezed through the narrow doorway. The room inside was surprisingly larger than Daja had expected. Past the door, each of the three walls were lined with long shelves stacked with all sorts of supplies.

Tris almost immediately located a box of flasks and picked out three of different sizes. They quickly left the room, Luna taking a roll of Spellotape before closing the door behind them.

"You're all done?" Mr Facio asked them, setting the phone back on its base. At their nods, he said, "I'll just ring you up then." He took their items and counted out the prices. "That'll be seventeen Sickles and thirteen Knuts, or, hm, I think it's about seven pounds..." He frowned, looking pained. "Even after over twenty years, I'll never be able to get the conversion right."

"We'll just pay with wizard money," Tris said, glancing over her shoulder to make sure there were no Muggles in hearing distance. "It's not like I have any pounds in the first place." She took a small from her coat pocket and pulled out a handful of Sickles out of it.

"No, wait, just use this," Daja suddenly remembered, reaching into the bag and taking out a Galleon. "Seventeen Sickles to the Galleon, right?"

"I'll pay for it," Luna told them, handing the money over to Mr Facio.

"No, I'll pay for mine-"

"You can pay me back later if you want to. Really, it's all right though. You don't have a lot of money to spend; you should save it."

Grudgingly Tris put her money away and took her bag from Mr Facio. "Thanks, Luna," she said once they were out of the store.

"It's no big deal," Luna replied cheerfully. "Ooh, look, there's the bookstore. And next to it, the sewing store..."

"Sewing store?" Daja said thoughtfully. "Maybe we can find something for Sandry there."

"Maybe..." Tris said distractedly, looking longingly towards the book displays. "I'm just going to look inside here for a minute. You can go on without me. " She practically ran back to the bookstore.

"Well, we won't be seeing her for a while," Daja grinned. _Same old Tris,_ she thought.

"Are you going to go look for something for Sandry?" Luna asked her.

"Yes; I think I'll try the sewing store."

"All right. I'm going to go to the corner store to pick up the groceries; I'll meet you back somewhere around here when I'm done." She walked off down the street.

"See you," Daja called after her before turning to go inside the sewing store.

It was a welcoming store, with walls painted in soft colours and huge baskets of bright yarn piled along the window-ledge. Sheets of different kinds of fabric hung from the walls and were folded along tables. Small shelves containing instruction packets, needles and every kind of sewing supply imaginable were positioned next to a counter where a tall, grey-haired woman cut a length of striped fabric for a young girl and her mother.

Daja wandered around the store. Nothing really caught her eye, until she came to a case of books in one corner.

Many of the titles were standard for a store like this; _Needlework for Beginners, Patching the Perfect Quilt, How to Repair Your Sewing Machine._ One book in particular caught her eye. At first, she didn't even think it was a book, but a section of the wooden case. The longer Daja looked at it, the more it stood out to her, until it no longer resembled a bookend but a book itself. She couldn't quite see the title from the angle it stood at, but it looked interesting, and the fact that it had originally been camouflaged against the wooden case made her wonder if perhaps there was more to this book.

"Ah, admiring our book collection, are you?" The woman from behind the counter came up beside Daja. "Anything catching your eye?"

"Yes, actually," Daja said, her eyes still on the magic book as though it would vanish from sight again. She pointed at it. "That one."

"... really? That one?" The woman seemed surprised that she had noticed it.

"Yes. Can I buy it?"

The woman hesitated. "I'm sorry, but that's a very special book... erm, it belonged to my grandfather, it's just there for display..."

Daja frowned slightly, disappointed by hearing this. Tearing her eyes away from the book, she glanced up at the woman, noticing for the first time how nervous she seemed to be, fidgeting and twisting the cloth in her hands back and forth.

"...it's a family heirloom... doesn't really relate to sewing, but my grandkids are always over and I'm scared they'll start playing with it..."

Reaching into her pocket, Daja pulled out a Sickle and held it up for the woman to see. She stopped talking immediately and took the coin, inspecting it closely as a small smile crept across her face. Finally meeting Daja's eyes, she winked at her.

"Well, in that case, I suppose you can have it," she whispered conspiratorially. "Just don't tell anyone that I let you buy this."

"How much?" Daja asked her quietly.

"One Galleon, fourteen Sickles."

She counted out the money silently and handed it over to the woman, who pocketed it with another wink. "The book's yours." As Daja gently lifted the book off the shelf, she added, "Don't get many of your sort coming in here, that's for certain."

"There aren't many of my sort around in the first place," Daja replied, causing the older woman to chuckle. _She'll never know just how I mean that, _she thought to herself._ Me and my siblings, we're one of a kind... well, four of a kind._

She looked down at the now fully visible book in her hands. _A History of the Invisibility Cloak._ It sounded like something Sandry would like; fashion, magic and history combined. She flinched as the book began fading from sight once more. Within seconds, her hands appeared to be completely empty; if it wasn't for the slight weight of the book between them, she might have thought they were.

"Don't worry," the woman murmured to her as the door to the shop opened. "It's just a spell. It'll turn invisible whenever Muggles come nearby." She turned away and went back over to her counter.

Daja left the store quickly, cradling the book in one arm and turning sideways to hide it from the Muggle customers who would surely find it strange to see a girl holding empty air in one hand. Going outside, she saw Tris and Luna immediately, sitting on the sidewalk across the road. Tris turned and, noticing her standing there, the two girls got to their feet and came towards her.

"Were you able to find something?" Tris asked.

"Yes, look at this." Daja held the now-visible book out to them so they could read the title.

"Looks interesting," Luna commented.

"Did you know that the sewing woman is a witch?" Daja asked her.

"No." Seeing her face, she added, "I mean, she's not a witch."

"Then how could she have this book?"

"She's a Squib; a person without magic, born to a wizarding family. She prefers to live as a Muggle because of it."

Daja whistled softly. "That must have been hard for her," she said.

"It probably was. She doesn't talk much about it, though." Luna glanced up towards the sky. "It's about noon. We should be heading home."

They left the town, walking back over the bridge. As they passed above the river, Daja turned the book over and read the back aloud.

_The Complete History of the Invisibility Cloak_

_This limited edition includes information on replicate cloaks, methods for creating invisible objects (including spells of varying levels and how to weave Demiguise hair), and the Legend of the True Invisibility Cloak, initially recorded by Beedle the Bard and now translated from the original runes into modern English for your convenience._

"The legend of the true invisibility cloak..." she repeated. Turning around to face Luna, she asked her, "Do you know what that is?"

"Oh, they must mean the tale of the three brothers," Luna said thoughtfully. "There are quite a few possible different names for that story. The story of the invincible wand; the resurrection of the river stone; and now, the legend of the true invisibility cloak."

Daja glanced down at the book again. A symbol had been hand-drawn below the synopsis; a triangle with a circle nested inside it, a straight line dividing the shapes equally in half.

"Can you tell us it?" she asked Luna hopefully.

"Of course I can." The blonde girl settled her grocery bag higher on her shoulder, and as they passed beneath the shadow of a large pine tree, she began telling them the story.


	27. Chapter 24

**A/N: Hey again, here's the next chapter! :) W****arning: possible Deathly Hallows spoiler in the very beginning. It's not giving away anything major, but the first mention of this is in HP7, so, just letting you know. I absolutely had to put it in; it's too good a story not to tell again. Gotta love those Peverells..**

Chapter 24 - The Three Brothers

"This story is about three brothers. They had been travelling along a dark, lonely road when they came across a deep river that was too dangerous to swim across. But the brothers were very skilled in using magic, and so they easily made a bridge appear so that they could cross the river. They were halfway across it when their path was blocked by a hooded figure of Death.

"Death spoke to them. He was angry that they had been able to cross, because usually travellers drowned in the river and he could take them into Death's realm. But Death is a sly figure, and he pretended to congratulate the brothers for having crossed the river, telling them that each of them had earned a prize for their cleverness and success.

"The oldest brother was a combative man. He asked Death for a wand that would always win, a wand that was worthy of one who had conquered Death. So Death went to an elder tree on the riverbank and made a wand from one of its branches, giving it to the oldest brother.

"The second brother was an arrogant man. He wanted to humiliate Death further, so he asked for the ability to bring others back from Death's realm. So Death took a stone from the riverbank and gave it to the second brother, telling him that the stone would have the power to bring back the dead.

"The youngest brother was a humble man. He was very wise, and did not trust Death. He asked for something that would let him go forth from that place without being followed by Death, and unwillingly Death handed over his own Invisibility Cloak. With that, Death stood aside and let the brothers pass. In time, the brothers separated for their own destinations.

"The oldest brother travelled on, reaching a distant village. He sought out a fellow wizard with whom he had a quarrel, and with the Elder Wand as his weapon he won the duel that followed. He proceeded to an inn, where he boasted to all that would hear him of the wand he had taken from Death itself. That night, another wizard killed him in his drunken sleep and stole his wand. And so Death took the oldest brother.

"The second brother travelled to his own home. Turning the stone in his hand, he was amazed to see appear before him the figure of the girl he had hoped to marry before her death. But she was silent and cold, suffering greatly in the mortal world she had returned to and yet did not belong in. He was driven mad and killed himself so that he could be with her. And so Death took the second brother.

"But though many years passed, Death never found the youngest brother. Finally, the youngest brother, having reached a great age, took off the Invisibility Cloak and gave it to his son. He greeted Death as an old friend and gladly went with him, and, equals, he departed this life."

The three girls continued walking in silence. Finally, Tris spoke up. "That's a really interesting story. Is it real?"

Luna nodded. "I think so, and Dad believes it too. Not everyone does, though."

"It's short, but there's a lot to think about in it," Daja said musingly. "So, Death has an invisibility cloak, and it's supposed to be the true one?"

"Exactly. The three items belonging to the brothers were called Death's Hallows: the invincible wand, the resurrection stone, and the cloak of invisibility," Luna explained to them. "There are other invisibility cloaks, but Death's cloak was supposed to be the true one because it would always hide the wearer; it would never wear out like spells would, and it wouldn't respond to Summoning charms or anything like that."

"So this book would be about both the false cloaks and the true one."

"That makes sense," Tris said, taking it from Daja and rereading the back cover. Not paying attention, she almost walked into the Lovegood's fence but looked up just in time. Shifting the book to her other hand, she pulled the gate open and walked inside, the other two following behind her.

"Dad, we're home," Luna called as they came in the front door, placing her bag on the floor. In the silence that followed, she frowned and called again, "Dad?"

Daja kicked off her boots and started unbuttoning her coat, pausing to lift a sheet of paper off the window-sill. "Luna, here's a note."

She took the note and read it quickly. "Dad's taken the car to the owl post office in London, to send out copies of _The Quibbler_ to his subscribers. He'll be back in time for supper." She tucked the note into her pocket and hung her coat on a hook by the door before picking up her grocery bag and heading into the kitchen.

"What's for lunch?" Tris asked, following her and peering into the fridge.

"We can make sandwiches," Daja suggested as she located the bread box.

"If you can make three sandwiches, then we can eat quickly before making some Christmas treats," Luna said. She reached into her bag and began pulling out containers. "We've got plenty of baking ingredients now; it'll be easy for us to make some cookies and whatnot."

Hastily spreading peanut butter across the slices of bread and pouring large glasses of milk, they quickly ate their lunch before preparing to do some baking.

Tris found an old cookbook in one of the cupboards and began rifling through for something good to make while Daja did the dishes. Luna wiped down the table and pulled the striped curtains over the window to block out the sun.

"Ooh, this one looks tasty," Tris suddenly exclaimed from where she sat on the counter. "Shortbread."

"It is really good," Luna smiled, "it was my mother's recipe. We should make some gingerbread too."

Daja came around beside Tris and read over her shoulder. "Na nay mo? Is that right?"

"It's nanaimo bars, that's pronounced nuh nie mo. Again, my mother's recipe. It's basically layers of chocolate and creamy filling."

"It all looks so good," Tris said dreamily, turning slowly through the book and looking at each page in turn.

Luna grabbed a box of flour. "Well then, let's get started! Which should we make first?"

"How about the shortbread?"

"Sure, we can start with that one. Daja, can you find the pans for me? They should be kind of rectangular, I think, about two fingers deep."

While Daja rummaged through the cupboards, Tris and Luna began making the shortbread.

"Ok, Tris, first scoop out the butter into this bowl, and we'll mix it with the sugar," Luna instructed, measuring out flour into a separate bowl. "Once it's mixed up really well, I'll add the flour."

"Are these the pans you were talking about?" Daja asked, bringing over three shallow pans.

Luna turned to look at them. "Oh, they're circles? I thought the ones we had were square."

Daja tilted the pans to look at them at a different angle. "They're kind of circles, but they've got flat sides too, what would you call that? Pentagon?"

"Actually, that would be a hexagon, since there's six sides," Tris said, vigorously stirring the sugar into the butter.

Luna stood up and carried her flour bowl over to where Tris was seated. "That looks good. We'll add the flour in now; I'll scoop it in while you keep stirring, to get it evenly mixed."

Soon the dough was ready. Daja divided it amongst the three pans and spread it smoothly across the surface. Finally, they turned the oven on and slide the pans inside to bake.

Luna grinned at them as she set the timer. "See? Baking is a lot of fun. Like everything else, it's much easier with a group of people, don't you think?" she asked, displaying once again that wise side of her that many people were unexpected to hear coming from a girl who wore radishes for earrings and stored her wand behind her ear.

The afternoon flew by. Within just an hour, the shady, warm kitchen had been transformed into a miniature bakery. Trays of cookies were spread out across the counter, dishes were piled up in the sink and flour had been dusted across the table as the three girls rolled out dough to make gingerbread men.

"Hand me the shape cutter," Tris said to Daja once, glancing up at her and laughing suddenly.

"What's so funny?" Daja asked her as she handed over the metal shape.

"You've got flour all over your nose," Tris grinned.

Looking in the mirror hanging over the kitchen sink, Daja had to laugh. The white flour against her dark skin did look rather funny.

Luna carefully picked up a gingerbread man and laid it out on a pan. "You shouldn't laugh at her, Tris. You've got flour in your hair." She giggled and rolled her eyes as Tris reached up to touch her head. "I was just joking, although of course you shouldn't laugh at people. You didn't actually have flour in your hair."

"Well, there's flour there now," Daja commented.

Tris glared good-naturedly at Luna as she wiped her flour-covered hands clean. "I think we're rubbing off on her," she whispered loudly to Daja. "You never used to trick people," she added to Luna.

Luna shrugged and grinned. "It's all in fun." She took the full tray of gingerbread and put it in the oven.

Next they made several bowls of coloured icing and gathered a pile of small candies on the table. The oven timer rang in no time and they pulled the trays out, deciding to get a head start on the dishes while they waited for the cookies to cool down. By the time the dishes were done, the cookies were declared cool enough to decorate, and they sat down at the table to do so.

Spreading icing on the gingerbread men and making them smiley faces was a lot of fun at first, but soon got a bit too repetitive for them. Luna showed them how to turn the female gingerbread, which were shaped as though they were wearing dresses, into witches and wizards with long capes.

Finally, there were just three pieces of gingerbread left. Glancing at the amount of icing left in the bowl, Daja suggested, "Let's make figures of ourselves. I'll take the man."

"All right. Tris and I will take the women," Luna said, handing them around. For the next few minutes there was silence as each tried to make a person resembling themselves as closely as possible.

"There," Daja said first, holding up a shape with dark blue hair. Red icing made up the pants, and small chocolate chips were positioned like buttons. She had even used a piece of a Licorice Wand to replicate her staff.

Luna finished hers next, laying it beside Daja's on the table, and Tris soon put her cookie down next to theirs. They were easily distinguishable from each other, partially because of the yellow and red hair, partially due to the difference in clothes. While Luna's person was wearing a cape and had sliced-up Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans as a necklace, Tris' was wearing a dress with minimal decoration, though she had managed to outline a lightning bolt on the skirt with broken-off pieces of yellow Muggle smarties.

"They're so cute," laughed Luna.

"You've got icing on your nose," Tris informed her, and while Luna looked confused at the sudden change in topic the redhead leaned forward with the icing-spoon in hand. Luna caught on quickly to her intentions and grabbed the spoon before it could touch her face, trying to force it back, but Tris was stronger and was able to smear icing not only across her nose but her cheeks as well.

Sitting triumphantly back in her chair, Tris grinned at Luna. "Like you said, it's all in fun," she told her.

Luna stuck out her tongue at her and wiped the icing off her face while the laughing Daja went to put the empty icing bowls in the sink.

There was a sudden bang from the other side of the room as the front door opened and Xenophilius strode in along with a gust of cold air. Turning around immediately, he forced the door shut.

"I think we've got a storm coming up," he panted, peeling his frost-coated scarf away from his face. Taking off his hat, he shook out his shaggy white hair before fumbling with the buttons on his coat.

"Really? A storm?" Tris repeated with interest. She moved to the kitchen window and pushed the curtain aside to watch the whirling snow. "I wondered what that prickly feeling I was picking up was. I'm not used to sensing these snowstorms."

Xenophilius stomped hard, dislodging the snow stuck to the bottom of his heavy boots. "At this rate, you'll get used to it pretty soon," he told her. Pulling a long bag off his shoulder and handing it to Daja, he hung his coat on a hook.

Daja looked inside the bag; several rolled-up copies of _The Quibbler_ lay in the bottom. "You had some papers left over?"

"I was able to deliver to all our regulars, and left a few copies at the desk for whoever wants them, but when I was heading home I realized I still had some left. I think I printed off a bit too many," Xenophilius admitted. Shrugging, he added, "Oh well, more for us I suppose." He went over to the sink and washed his hands, asking over his shoulder, "What's for supper?"

"There's some leftover stew we could finish up," Luna suggested while she hastily piled the finished gingerbread men into a wide square container. Snapping the lid closed, she put the box in one of the cupboards where they had stored the other cookies.

"That does sound good. We need something warm to eat, in weather like this."

Tris and Luna pulled the large stew-pot out of the fridge and onto the stove. Xenophilius distractedly rapped it with his wand, heating the burners up immediately before taking his bag back from Daja and carrying it upstairs. By the time he came back down, the round table was set and the delicious smell of stew was already making its way through the house.

"Now, that's more like it," he smiled, inhaling the scent. "All we need is something to drink. Personally, I could go for a large cup of Gurdyroot infursion."

Daja and Tris exchanged glances. While many of the strange foods that the Lovegoods ate were actually rather tasty, their infursion of Gurdyroots was one drink neither of them could take more than a sip of. It was definitely an acquired taste.

"How about some eggnog, Dad?" Luna asked him, perhaps noticing the look on her friend's faces.

"Eggnog, hm? You know, that probably would better suit the time of year. Gurdyroot is more of a warm-weather drink, wouldn't you agree?" he asked, and at their nods, he pulled his wand out once more and said, "Let's see if I remember that spell. Molly Weasley taught it to me that one year; do you remember, Luna? They invited us over for Christmas dinner. When was that?"

"Six years ago, I think. I was eight." Luna grinned. "You kept getting your spell wrong, you nearly blew up their kitchen. Mom kept laughing at you. Mrs Weasley stepped in and taught you a different spell for it after you set their Christmas tree on fire."

"Yes, yes, that's how it went. I don't think they ever invited us back for dinner since then. I said to them, it's high time you came and got one of our Dinckletrees, they're bred to be fire-resistant. Well, no matter." Xenophilius raised his wand, and pointing it into a clear pitcher, he muttered "_Gemada aparecer!_"while twirling his wand in a small circle. About half-way through the spell, a thick, creamy white liquid began pouring from the tip of his wand, filling the pitcher to the brim.

Now that everything was ready, each person took their bowl to the stove and filled it with as much stew as they liked. Gathering back around the circular table, Xenophilius poured four large glasses of the creamy eggnog and handed them around.

"Here's to friends and family," he said, raising his glass with a smile.

"To cookies and Crumple-horned Snorkacks," Luna continued.

"And to Christmas snow," Tris added.

"And eggnog," Daja put in quickly before taking a sip of the rich, creamy drink along with the others.

Dinner was finished up quickly; the stew didn't take long to eat. For dessert, the girls pulled out a sampling of the cookies they had made to show Xenophilius.

"My, you three were busy," he remarked, biting into a piece of shortbread.

"We had a lot of fun today," Luna said, passing the plate of cookies around. "Mr and Mrs Facio said to tell you hi."

"Oh, you went down to their store? Where else did you go?"

"I went to get some groceries, while Daja and Tris went to the sewing place and the bookstore," Luna told him.

"Really? What did you see there?" he asked, turning to look at Daja. "I haven't been down in the shops at St Catchpole for quite a long time."

"I got a present for Sandry at the sewing store," she said, gesturing towards the shelf by the door where she had placed it. "It's all about invisibility cloaks. There's some kind of spell on it; it turns invisible when Muggles are around."

"That's interesting. I didn't think that Ella was willing to sell her family's magic books," Xenophilius commented, looking thoughtfully at the book. "And what about you, Tris?"

Tris reddened slightly. "I didn't buy anything. I just sat and read. They had some Muggle history books, it was really neat to read about the ancient civilizations there used to be."

"History; now that is a topic which could take years to learn about, both Muggle and wizarding history alike," Xenophilius agreed with a nod.

"Yes, and how the two are so closely related to each other! It's so different from at home; sometimes I can't believe how ignorant the Muggles were of magical cultures and how they affected so many world events," Tris said enthusiastically. "Once we get back to Hogwarts, I'm going to check out all the history books I can find in the library. I want to learn more about the past of your world."

Daja glanced up at her sister and pointed out, "Didn't you already make it your goal to find out more about wands? I thought you checked out those huge books for your research."

"Oh, right." Tris frowned. "Well, once I finish up with those, then I'll look into history. I guess I probably should focus on one thing at a time."

"You don't have to," Luna said. "Just take turns with them. Doing the same thing all the time can get really boring. You need to change it up every now and then."

"That's a good point."

Luna smiled at her and got up from the table. "I'll be right back," she said, pulling the front door open a crack and slipping outside.

"Luna, put a coat on," Xenophilius started to call before sighing. "Oh, she's left already. Well, she'll be all right; it's not too cold out, just windy." He got up and walked upstairs, calling as he went that he had to finish up an article for his next _Quibbler_.

Tris got up as well. "Help me with the dishes," she said to Daja. The two of them collected the bowls and cups from the table and put them on the edge of the counter, since the sink was still full.

"I'll wash," Daja offered, filling the sink with water. Faced with the bowls coated in a hardened layer of once-sticky icing, she reached out to the oven and touched the burners, pulling the heat away and into the water. "No need to turn off the stove," she grinned, soaking the last bit of heat from it into her skin. Returning to scrubbing, she was pleased to see that the extremely hot water had melted the icing right off the bowls.

The dishes were done incredibly fast with the two of them; between the superheated water and Tris drying the dishes with wind rather than towels, probably the only way it could have done faster would have been by spells.

"You don't even look like you're helping," Daja said once, grinning at Tris, who sat flipping through one of Xenophilius' leftover newspapers at the kitchen table. The redhead waved a hand indifferently, causing a gust of air to slam into the bowl Daja was holding and dry it instantly.

"Stop gaping at me, you keep dripping water on the floor," Tris retorted, her eyes amused. Returning to the newspaper, she added, "It doesn't matter what it looks like I'm not doing. The only thing that matters is what I am doing."

Within minutes they were done, and Luna had come back inside. "Here's your present for Briar," she said to them, placing a small ceramic pot on the table.

Tris came over to see what it was, and Daja followed her, drying her hands on a towel.

"It's one of the Dinckburrs," Luna said as Tris picked up the pot to look inside. "Well, two, actually. You can't plant them in the winter, but I put some dirt in the pot anyways to keep them warm."

"He'll love it," Daja grinned. "I hope the storm lets up soon so that we can send it to them."

"If we have to, we can just give the presents to them once school starts back up," Tris said, "but I hope we can get it to them before then."

As if on cue, there was a crash at the window. Jumping slightly, Daja turned to look at the window. As the other two exchanged confused glances behind her back, she walked over to the window and opened it.

At once, a tiny brown owl hopped up to the windowsill. With a loud hoot, it flew into the room, landing on Tris' head.

"Pidwidgeon," the redhead said, looking startled.

"Oh, yes, that's Ron's owl, isn't it?" Luna asked. "Briar borrowed him to send you that letter on the last day of school, Daja."

"Yeah. Why does it refuse to land somewhere normal, like a table, and go straight for people's heads?" Daja muttered. She shut the window and turned to face Tris, reaching up for the owl. "Come here, Pidwidgeon."

The owl willingly hopped down into her hands, holding out another letter in its foot.

Daja carefully untied the letter before releasing the owl; he flew off to the kitchen table while she readit aloud.

'_Hey Daj, Tris. Just wanted to let you two know, and Luna if she's there, that we went up to see Mr Weasley today. He's looking a bit pale, some massive bandages wrapped around him too, but otherwise doing all right. We overheard something a bit weird about Harry while we were there; yes, I said overheard, it's not a crime to listen to other people Coppercurls so quit glaring at this paper like I know you are! Anyways, weird and possibly bad thinking is going on in the minds of these adults, and Dumbly too by default. Tell ya more later once we see you again, don't want to risk this getting into the wrong hands. Well merry Christmas, hopefully we can see you soon, but if not then I guess we'll meet up again at Hogwarts. Save us a seat on the train. Thanks. Briar.'_

"That's good that Mr Weasley's doing well," Luna said.

"Yeah; I wonder what they heard?" Daja said curiously.

"Well, I don't think we'll be able to get a return letter to them tonight; look how stormy it's getting," Tris said, glancing out the kitchen windows. "Pig, you'll stay with us tonight, ok?" She turned around, frowning. "Pig? Where's that owl gotten to?"

They headed upstairs, waving good-night to Xenophilius as they walked past, and soon reached Luna's room where they found the owl at last. He was perched on her window-frame, pecking at a popcorn chain that had been hung around it. It was apparent that he had been there for the entire time it took them to read the letter, as several inches of the chain were now completely bare.

"Aw, Pig. We spent a long time putting those up around the house," Tris muttered, though it was said with a faint smile.

"Let's find you someplace better to sleep," Luna said to the owl. She picked him up and looked around the room thoughtfully. "I know, you can stay on the top shelf of my bookshelf; it's only got a few books on it."

Daja grinned and stroked the owl's feathers. "Well, good night, Luna, Pig. See you in the morning."

The owl looked up at her with bright eyes and hooted once before turning his head to try and reach the popcorn chain once more. Giving in, Luna pulled the chain off the wall, and that night the owl reflected that it had the best bed in the house, snuggled up on the low shelf in a pair of long, striped socks with a whole string of popcorn to munch through. The only thing missing was the warmth of Hedwig's feathers brushing against his. Even a cold, wire cage was better than a sock-lined shelf when his best friend was with him.


	28. Chapter 25

**A/N: This would've been out a week earlier, but my computer has been acting up. Meh, technology, you've gotta hate it as much as you love it.**

**On the upside, this is a pretty good chapter, I think; I've decided to go back to Grimmauld Place, because we've been ignoring them a bit. But don't worry; we'll definitely go back to the Lovegoods before the return to Hogwarts.**

**And hey, guess what, it's my birthday! Well, birth anniversary, at least. Reviews would be nice :D**

_Previously: (since it's been a while)_

"_Dumbledore seemed worried about Harry when he called me up this morning," said Tonks nervously._

"_Course he's worried," Moody growled. "The boy's seeing things from inside You-Know-Who's snake. Obviously, Potter doesn't realize what that means, but if You-Know-Who's possessing him-"_

_Beside her, Sandry heard Harry breathe in sharply. He pulled the Ear out of his own and the rest of them did the same. All six of them stared at Harry, confused and afraid._

Chapter 25 - Of which confusion abounds and rats go flying

Moody, Tonks and Lupin had taken Sirius up on his offer to stay for the holidays. As they all gathered around the kitchen table for dinner, Mrs Weasley glanced around them with a concerned look on her face before turning to whisper something to Sirius.

"I'm sure he's all right," Briar heard Sirius reply. "He's probably just tired out. He'll come down sooner or later."

But Harry never came down that night. Dinner was filled with forced conversation; the adults pretending everything was all right, and the kids risking glances at each other, knowing exactly what it was that the adults were trying so hard to keep secret.

"Well, I think it's time you children got up to bed," Lupin finally said, sitting back in his chair. "I wouldn't mind some sleep, myself. Is there a room for me?"

"Of course I've got a room for my best mate," Sirius chuckled, flicking his wand at the dishes spread across the table. "And my cousin," he added, glancing at Tonks. "And my... er... friend... Auror..." He paused, looking uncertainly towards the dishes now rolling automatically through the soapy water in the sink. As if to reinforce his hesitation, one of the plates suddenly jerked in midair and flung soapsuds across the front of his shirt.

Moody grunted and stood up. "Just point out the rooms, Black, no need to get chummy."

"Sorry," Sirius said, not looking sorry in the least. "Just up the stairs by the entrance, the second and third floors both have some empty rooms. The rest are already taken up by this lot."

Moody grunted once more and stumped heavily out of the room.

"Now there's a man who could use a large Firewhiskey at this time of night," Sirius commented to the room at large while he brushed the soap off his shirt. "No sense of humour at all-" He stopped as a fine stream of soapy water flew out of the sink and hit him in the back of the head. One hand going to the top of his head, Sirius turned to gape at the sink.

"Constant vigilance!" roared Moody from the first-floor landing. "Alcohol dulls the senses!"

"I say it sharpens it!" Sirius shouted back.

"Dulls, Black, you of all people should know that!"

"Merlin's pants, Mad-Eye, it sharpens the mind!"

"It weakens the brain and slows the reflexes!"

"Both of you, stop! You're behaving like children!" Mrs Weasley scolded, looking as though she could start laughing at any moment. Tonks had already given up and was sprawled across two chairs, grinning hugely while using her wand to flick more soap into Sirius' hair. In all the confusion, Briar was able to slip a couple rolls into the baggy pockets of his Muggle jeans.

"All right; all of you, just get to bed," Mrs Weasley finally said, pulling out her wand and Vanishing the water in the sink. The rotating dishes clattered noisily onto the counter as Sirius gave up, Apparating off somewhere, presumably to his room. Tonks sighed forlornly but swished her wand through the air, stacking the dishes neatly before nodding to Mrs Weasley and leaving the kitchen. While Lupin put the leftover food away in the pantry, Mrs Weasley looked at her children and pointed towards the door.

"But, Mom, we're of age," George pointed out, Fred nodding in agreement as the other four turned to leave.

"Compared to me, you're not," was all they heard of Mrs Weasley's reply as Briar, Ron and the girls left the kitchen.

"Hey, can I borrow Pig again?" Briar asked Ron, holding up the letter he had written to Daja and Tris while they were riding home from the hospital, and which he had completely forgotten about until he had gone to stuff the rolls in his pockets and found it.

"Yeah, sure," Ron said. Glancing towards the staircase, he grinned and added, "There's that feathered midget now," waving towards the troll's leg umbrella stand.

Picking up the tiny owl, Briar deftly tied his letter to the outstretched leg before opening the front door a crack. Pig flew outside and was quickly blown off, flying faster than usual due to the rising winds. Briar shut the door and hurried up the stairs after the others.

They were almost at the second floor landing when they heard the unmistakable _crack_ of someone Apparating. A moment later, a surprisingly girly shriek came from somewhere along the third floor, followed by several loud bangs before the ceiling above them cracked and the twins fell out in front of them on the second-floor hall.

"And stay out!" Tonks shouted down to them, both her hair and face coloured a fiery red. Seeing the others standing there, she grinned and waggled her fingers at them as her hair darkened. "Goodnight." The ceiling sealed back up, every piece of chipped wood and black paint lining neatly in its original place.

"We're still learning how to Apparate properly, you know!" called Fred defensively.

"Yeah, our room's right down the hall from yours, you're lucky we got it that close," George added. Glancing at the four still staring at them, he shrugged. "'Scuse me," he said, walking around them up the stairs as Fred picked himself off the floor and followed him.

"Somehow, I get the feeling that this holiday won't be very relaxing," Sandry remarked to Ginny, who smiled and bobbed her head in agreement.

"The twins make everything more interesting," she said, opening the door to their room. "G'night, Ron, Briar."

"G'night," they echoed back, walking down the hall to the room they shared with Harry. Giving Briar a slightly apprehensive look, Ron opened the door and they slowly walked inside.

The curtains were still open, which was good. If it wasn't for the faint moonlight outside they never would have been able to get across the room to their beds without tripping over their trunks.

Harry was sleeping, curled up on his side, and the two boys quickly got ready for bed. Within just a couple minutes, Briar was lying on his back staring up at the ceiling. He yawned widely, pulling the quilt up to his chin, and soon fell asleep.

He woke some time later to see in the half-light Harry sitting propped up on his elbow, starting towards a portrait on the wall. Sliding an arm out from underneath the sheets, Briar dug through the clothes he had tossed on the floor beside his bed and found the rolls he had taken from the kitchen. Without sitting up he tossed them across to Harry's bed, surprised at his aim from the odd angle as one fell right in front of the boy; the other one hit him in the face.

"Sorry," he muttered. "They're from dinner. I figured you'd be hungry."

There was silence, and then Harry picked one up. "Thanks," he said quietly.

"S'nothing," mumbled Briar, rolling over and drifting back into sleep immediately.

Just as Sandry had predicted, the next day wasn't very relaxing, though the twins weren't the primary reason for it. Mrs Weasley wrote up a schedule for them, and nearly every minute was spent cleaning and decorating the house. Whenever Briar wasn't propping trees up in corners, hanging tinsel from the ceiling and mopping the kitchen floors, the twins taught him wizarding Christmas carols.

"Alright, Briar, here's one of our favourites," George said while Fred used his wand to Transfigure a fork into a guitar. Tapping their feet against the floor, they belted out the song together.

"The Sphinx's head in hand bear I, adorned with ginger and alihotsy! We wizards all shall be merry, at the death of the fearsome beast!"

Fred strummed some chords before launching into the second verse.

"The Sphinx's head, I understand, is the greatest dish in any land! Prepared so delightfully, I think it will make for a merry feast!"

After another guitar chorus, during which George grabbed a rolling pin from the kitchen counter and starting banging pots with it, they continued with the final verse.

"The Egyptian one whose sphinx I killed, he shall be most annoyed! But I say he can kiss my--"

"Fred! George! Stop that racket!" Mrs Weasley shouted from the floor above.

The twins grinned identically, and shrugged at Briar. "We'll show you more tomorrow," they promised him, returning the dishes to their places.

Briar grinned. "Sounds good," he said to them as he put his mop back into the closet.

Throughout the day, Briar snuck away whenever he could to find Harry up in the remotest corners of the house. After lunch, he left the room again, this time locating Harry in a sitting room on the first floor.

"Why do you keep coming to find me?" Harry grumbled from his seat on the sofa as he flipped through a Potions textbook. Briar merely pulled a sandwich from his hoodie pocket and held it out to him. Reluctantly, Harry closed his book and placed it down on top of the unlit fireplace, accepting the sandwich from him.

As he bit into the sandwich, Briar sat down in a wide armchair opposite him. Slouching into the thick cushions, he gazed at the large tapestry on which was documented Sirius' family tree as he said to Harry, "I don't fully get why you're hiding. Well, I guess I can kinda understand, but regardless, I'm not going to force you to come out or anything."

Harry glanced at him, looking a bit surprised. "Thanks. I appreciate it." Without prompting, he took the second sandwich from Briar. After hungrily tearing his way through it, he suddenly asked, "Want to go meet someone?"

Briar frowned. "I didn't know anyone else lived here."

"There's someone else. Come on." Harry rose to his feet and, leaving his textbook on the sofa, led Briar out of the room.

The two walked down the hall and past the main staircase from which they could hear the cheerful voices of the others decorating the wide Christmas tree. Just behind an open doorway at the end of the hall was a second, smaller set of winding stairs. They climbed up, Briar gingerly testing each step before resting his weight on it; he didn't trust the dusty, cobwebbed staircase.

"Why ain't we taking the main stairs?" he asked Harry as the stairs rose steadily steeper.

Harry shrugged. "I like these ones," he said. "They both lead to all four floors of the house, but these take us directly to the room we're going in. Well, the back entrance to the room, at least."

"Remind me again where exactly we're going," Briar said after a brief pause.

"We're going up to the old master bedroom on the third floor. Well, third and a half; it's a bit of an in-between level. Technically, Sirius is the master now and could stay there, but he hates the room and I can't blame him. So it's where he keeps... well, you'll see who." Shaking his hair out of his eyes, Harry stopped suddenly, almost causing Briar to walk into him. "Here we are," he said, laying a hand on the curved handle of the door in front of them. Pushing it open, he waved Briar into the room in front of him, closing the door behind them with a faint click.

The exact size of the dark room was difficult to judge, but with the faint trickle of light coming in through the windows Briar could tell that it was fairly large. Long windows framed with dark green curtains were cut into the wall opposite them; a huge four-poster bed stood in the corner closest to them. A second door was on the wall to their right. Apart from that, the room was empty.

At least, it seemed to be empty. When Briar took a step forward, his shoes sinking into the thick carpet, he noticed what appeared to be some sort of head rising from the shadows in the far corner of the room. Turned towards the light of the window, it was just far enough back to be completely in shadow; it was hard to tell what kind of creature the head belonged to.

Behind him, he heard a faint scraping sound as Harry struck a match. Lighting a torch fastened to the wall beside the door, the room was lightened by the flickering light of the flame. As the shadows vanished, the creature turned away from the window to look attentively at them.

It was a magnificent creature, with a head similar to that of an eagle's. Its body, however, was nothing like Briar had ever seen. As Harry walked forward to stand beside Briar, it unfolded clawed front legs and stood up, still studying them intently with intelligent dark grey eyes.

"Hey, Buckbeak," Harry greeted the beast, his attitude noticeably improving. Moving forward, he held a hand out and gently stroked the glistening beak.

"What kind of animal is that?" Briar asked quietly, warily eyeing the sharp talons as he kept a careful distance from it.

"Buckbeak is a Hippogriff," Harry replied. "They're half eagle, half horse. He used to live with Hagrid, until in our third year. Malfoy Senior got him earned him a death sentence for a stupid move of Malfoy's. Around that time, Sirius had just escaped from the wizard prison Azkaban, and through a long, drawn-out series of events I met him, found out he was innocent and my godfather, he was re-captured, locked in the Astronomy Tower and also sentenced to death, Hermione and I snatched Buckbeak from the executioner, and flew up to the Astronomy Tower to rescue Sirius." Harry gave Buckbeak one final pat and stepped back. "Oh yeah, around that time we learned Ron's rat was the creep who sold my parents to Voldemort, and that Lupin was a werewolf. He was our Defence teacher at the time, completely brilliant at it too, but after that he decided to quit before Dumbledore got into trouble for hiring him."

Briar scratched his head. "That's a lot of things to go on."

"Yeah, and all in a year too. All my school years have been like that. Complete chaos."

"So, a rat was indirectly - ok, ok, _directly_ responsible for your parent's death."

"Well, it turned out that the rat was actually an Animagus."

"A man-rat," Briar clarified. "And, hang on, Lupin's a werewolf?"

Harry shifted nervously. "I'm not certain if you're allowed to know that," he admitted. "Just forget I said anything, ok?"

Briar grinned. "How can I forget that?" At the look on Harry's face, he smirked and added, "I won't tell anyone. Well, maybe the girls. But no one else, I swear."

Harry sighed. "Well, come on over here. I'll introduce you to Buckbeak." At Briar's slight reluctance to move forward, he grinned and remarked, "Never thought I'd see you scared," while he walked back to where he was standing.

"I'm not some little bleating lamb. I just happen to like having ten fingers," Briar informed him.

At that, Buckbeak turned to face him and clicked his beak shut loudly.

Briar rolled his eyes, secretly impressed with the beast's intelligence. "Don't even joke about that," he told the hippogriff sternly.

Smiling for the first time since getting home from the hospital, Harry told Briar to walk slowly forward to the hippogriff. "Bend down low, like you're bowing to him," he instructed.

"Why? He ain't any higher up than I am," Briar pointed out, but he did as Harry said.

"All right, stop now, but keep bowing," Harry said after Briar had only taken a few small steps forward. "Once he bows back, you can stand up. Then just keep walking towards him with your hand out as if you're going to pat his beak."

Briar crossed his eyes at the green carpet in front of his nose. _Here goes nothing_. Glancing up through his hair, he watched with slight surprise as Buckbeak bowed to him. Straightening up, he started to move forward when the hippogriff snorted, his talons clenching and unclenching against the floor.

"Watch it, Briar, don't push him," Harry cautioned. "Just stop and wait for him to come to you."

"Easier said than done," Briar muttered, one hand still stretched out towards the sharp beak.

The hippogriff tilted his head and looked at him for a long moment. Just when Briar thought he couldn't take it any more, Buckbeak jumped forward and rested his beak on the boy's shoulder. Mouth open in astonishment, Briar found himself staring right into one of his grey eyes.

"I guess he likes you," Harry said from behind them, his voice sounding a bit shaky.

"Guess so," Briar said softly, reaching up to stroke the thin feathers on the side of his head. "Come on, Buckbeak, you gotta give me some space," he added, taking a step back from the huge beast, who merely blinked at him in response and rapped its beak against his hand.

Watching them for a moment, Harry said, "I'm just going to grab some food for him; I'll be right back..." He opened the door to the large closet and walked inside. While he was gone, Briar continued to pat the Hippogriff, admiring the smooth grey feathers and how each row seemed to interlock with the next.

Harry soon returned, with a large metal bucket in one hand. Almost as soon as he had stepped out of the closet, Buckbeak had turned to face him, his ears perked up. Harry pulled a small animal from the bucket and tossed it to him; the Hippogriff caught it in midair.

"Rats," Harry explained to Briar as Buckbeak gulped it down quickly and stretched out his beak for another one. "As you can see," he continued, tossing another rat, "he loves them. Well, his favorite is ferrets, but he's happy with rats. It's a good thing too, cause they're easy to catch and bring in for him."

"Why are they kept in the closet?" Briar asked him.

Harry smirked. "Sirius doesn't care much for his parents, which is why Buckbeak lives up in their old room. I think he finds the idea of a Hippogriff sleeping on their bed and dead rats in his mum's closet about as amusing as using their house of Death Eaters as the headquarters for an anti-Voldemort resistance."

"It does look like he's settled in well," Briar commented with a grin as he took a second glance around the room, noting the torn bed sheets, the feathers scattered across the floor and the bloodstains scattered randomly across the walls.

"Sirius used to keep trying to pull the curtains across the window, to keep him hidden from anyone walking down below, but Buckbeak tore them up every time he tried. Then he remembered that there's a Fidelius on the house; that's what makes it impossible to see unless you know where it is," Harry explained. "He's gotten so used to it, he forgets about it half the time... anyways, after that he really could care less, started throwing his mum's old clothes in here for Buckbeak to play with when we were cleaning up the house in the summer."

Faintly, Briar heard the doorbell ring below them, followed by a string of curses from Mrs Black and an equally loud string of curses from Sirius as he tried to silence her. "Wonder who that is," he said, taking a rat from the bucket and flinging it towards the bed, causing the Hippogriff to dance backwards trying to catch it.

"Probably just one of the Order, they might be meeting again tonight," Harry said indifferently.

Within barely five minutes, however, he was proved wrong as the door to the Black's room was flung open. Hermione came into the room, still wrapped up in a coat and scarf and with a thick book in hand, and soon followed by Ron, Ginny and Sandry.

"Harry!" she said with enthusiasm that sounded a bit forced to Briar. "Happy Christmas!"

"It's not til tomorrow, Mione, and what are you doing here?" Harry asked her, the smile leaving his face.

"Well, to be honest, skiing's not really my thing - oh, stop laughing, Ron! - and so I decided to come back. My parents were disappointed, but I've told them about the OWLs, and they know I've got a lot more studying to do for them, so, well, here I am," she grinned. Glancing at Briar, she added, "Hello Briar, it's nice to see you again. How are you liking London at Christmastime?"

"It's a bit cold for me, but I'm managing," he replied, smiling back at her.

"Here," Harry muttered, handing the bucket to Briar. "I've gotta go."

"Not so fast, mate, we need to talk to you," Ron said, closing the door and standing in front of it. Harry glared at him, one hand twitching towards the pocket where he usually kept his wand.

"Come on, Harry," Hermione said to him as she sat down on the edge of the bed, Ginny sitting beside her as Sandry settled onto the shredded remains of what had once been a thick green rug.

Harry considered it for a moment, then sighed and sat down beside Hermione. Ron followed him, leaning against the bedpost, and Briar left the bucket on the floor for Buckbeak before going to stand beside him.

"Harry, Ron owled me with what you heard at St Mungo's," Hermione said quietly.

"Yeah, keep talking about me behind my back like everyone else, will you?" Harry grumbled, blinking in surprise as Hermione whacked his shoulder with her book.

"Harry, stop it, you're acting like a kid. There's a simple way to find out if what they think to be true is actually true."

"Yeah? And how is that?" Harry snapped back.

"Have you ever thought about asking the one person here who's actually been possessed by someone?" Ginny asked coldly from her seat beside Hermione.

Harry glanced at her, slowly reddening. "Er, no," he said slowly. "I guess I kinda just assumed they were right..."

"If there's one you should know by now, it's that no one is ever always right, no matter who they are," she pointed out.

He nodded slightly. "Sorry."

She sighed, and then said to the group at large, "When I was being possessed by You-Know-Who, there were long sections of time that I had no memory of what I had been doing. Just these large spaces that were left completely blank." Directing her next words at Harry, she continued, "Are you able to remember everything that you've been doing recently?"

"Yeah... well, mostly everything, it's a bit fuzzy in places. But it's all there."

"Then you haven't ever been possessed by him," she said simply. "Believe me, you would know something was wrong for a while, it wouldn't be a sudden thought that maybe it had happened."

"You really think so?" he asked, already starting to look better.

Ginny nodded. The relief in the room was felt by all of them.

"I still don't know how he was able to make you see Mr Weasley and the snake, though," Hermione confessed. "I've been doing a bit of research but nothing that really makes sense has come up..."

"I think I've got an idea," Briar said slowly. "But I'm not sure if it's right."

Sandry turned to him._ I think I've got the same idea as you. But I think we should wait and ask Tris and Daja before assuming it's right._

_Yeah, that's a good idea._

_I can't wait to see them again._

_Me neither._


	29. Chapter 26

**A/N: er. I really have nothing to say. except that I feel terrible and I am a pititful excuse for a writer. I hope you don't hate me too much.. that is, if you do, I understand, cause I'm kinda hating myself right now anyways, but I really hope you don't.. **

Chapter 26 - Between Pointy Bishops and Risking Life & Limb and Even More Eggnog in the House, well, you have to admit that this has SIRIUSLY been a Brilliant Christmas

He was standing on a hill, a shovel in his hands. A gaping hole opened up at his feet. No, not a hole, a well; a well cut straight through a thick slab of grey stone. He bent closer to it, entranced by the flickering reflections of light on the water deep below. They came together, forming a lopsided circle; it looked like someone had bent a globe out of shape and then tossed it aside into the well. He was filled with the sudden urge to dispose of it better. Looking at the shovel in his hands and running his fingers across the smooth metal, he dug it into the earth and tossed dirt into the well, smothering the globe.

It seemed to take only a short time for him to fill the well completely. Water still soaked through the dirt, but it was shallow; the reflections were gone. A voice called out to him, a muffled voice, the words impossible to make out. He ignored it, gently probing the earth with his fingertips, feeling roots uncurling from the seeds hidden inside it, watching small leaves poke out from the topmost layer of soil. In the light, they were a vivid green, so bright that they hurt his eyes.

The ground shook underneath him as the muffled voice continued to call out louder. Dirt fell in huge clumps around him. Somehow, he managed to fall _into_ the earth, towards the source of the brilliant green light.

Now the words were decipherable. As he recognized this, he could feel himself fading, and he allowed himself to be swept away even as he wished he could go back and follow the light down into the darkest layers of the earth.

The voice was cutting into his dreams, calling his name. With a final, regretful sigh, he opened his eyes.

"Briar, Briar, are you up yet?"

"I am now," he mumbled, blinking until the blurred redhead came into focus.

"Well, happy Christmas!"

"Er, you too, Ron," Briar said with a slightly bewildered grin. Even now, he could feel the remnants of the dream-earth around him; waking up so quickly after a dream like that was disorienting. He pushed himself into a slightly more upright position, yawning widely before pushing the blankets aside and jumping bodily off the bed. His muscles were stiff from sleep, and halfway through stretching them out Briar realized that there were several paper-wrapped packages next to his bed.

"Are those for me?" he asked the others.

Harry laughed at his surprise. "You're one of us, Briar; you didn't think we'd forget you on Christmas, did you?"

"I think that one's from Mum and Dad," Ron said, gesturing towards a small, paper-wrapped bundle. "Open it up, see what you got."

Hesitantly, Briar tore off the red paper to reveal a pair of woollen green socks.

"Mum always knits things for Christmas gifts," Ron grinned, waving a hand towards the maroon sweater he was wearing over his faded pyjamas. "She's got these enchanted needles, they do a brilliant job." He pulled open one of his own gifts, adding, "Go on, Briar, don't be shy, you can open them."

"Briar? Shy? I don't think we'll live to see that day," Harry commented dryly. Briar was glad to see that he was doing better. Well enough to make jokes, at least.

"Good haul this year," Ron commented, crumbling up his leftover wrapping paper into balls and tossing them into a pile by the door. "Thanks for the broom compass, Harry, I've been wanting a new one for ages. Beats Hermione's, she got me a _homework planner_."

"Hey, same here," Harry said, pulling out a thick notebook. Opening the leather cover, he blinked in surprise as a cheery voice announced, "Do it today or later you'll pay!"

"She got me a present too," Briar added, lifting a rectangular parcel in surprise. "Now I feel bad; I didn't get her anything."

"Don't feel bad, she won't mind," Ron assured him. "I mean, think about it.. in helping out Fred and George with their crazy schemes, you've been keeping them from experimenting on the first-years and brewing potions in the common room, which prevents her from having to interfere and stop their fun. Which, believe me, is _very_ hard to do."

"I've gathered." Briar unwrapped the gift; it was an Advanced Herbology book, with tiny diagrams in the margins that would magically enlarge and float off the page when they were tapped. He also had a small bag of Honeyduke's Holiday Mix from the Aurors.

"Merlin's pants, look at this," Harry said suddenly, showing them a large textbook titled _Practical Defensive Magic and its Use Against the Dark Arts_. "Lupin is brilliant; this is going to help the DA so much."

"I will never get tired of your magic," Briar said dreamily, staring over Harry's shoulder as he flipped through pages of moving diagrams.

A loud _crack _from behind them caused Harry to fall backwards off the bed, Briar snatching the book out of the air as it flew out of his hands.

"Woah, sorry about that," George's voice said from behind him. He jumped lightly off the bed and held out a hand to Harry.

"Nice reflexes." Fred grinned at Briar. "You ready for your first game?"

"Oh yeah. Hufflepuff is going down."

"Well thanks, Briar," Harry said with a grimace as George pulled him to his feet. "I feel really valued right now. Supposed saviour to the wizarding world, right here, and you had to choose the book over me."

"You fell on a foot-high pile of wrapping paper, I doubt it would've done much damage," Briar pointed out. "Besides, I don't see you in any upcoming Quidditch matches, so even if you had somehow injured yourself falling off a bed it wouldn't really matter."

"Who's this from?" Fred asked, gingerly lifting a picture from Harry's bed.

"Dobby made it. He painted it himself," Harry told him.

"What's it supposed to be, now that's the real question," Ron put in.

"It's supposed to be Harry, says so on the back," George pointed out.

"Really? Looks like a gibbon to me." Fred turned it around, looking at it from a variety of different angles before shrugging and placing it back on the bed. "Good likeness, anyway."

Harry chucked his new homework planner at him; the former Beater ducked it easily and it hit the wall, where it said in a strained voice, "If you'd only work harder today, then tomorrow you can play."

Ron frowned. "Man, those things are annoying."

Briar shrugged, trying a piece of fudge from his Honeydukes bag. "Could be worse. I wonder if breakfast's ready?"

George shook his head. "Don't go downstairs yet."

"Why not?"

"Mum's crying again. Percy sent back his Christmas jumper, the prat," Fred said heavily. "Without a note or anything."

"We tried to comfort her, told her Percy's nothing more than a humungous pile of rat droppings."

"Didn't work so well, so Lupin took over."

"Best to let him cheer her up a bit before we go down, I reckon." George snagged a Chocolate Frog from the box on Ron's bed. "S'alright, you can have the card, I just want the frog," he reassured his brother as he tore off the wrapping and popped it in his mouth. Tossing the card to Ron, he stood up and gave them a cheery wave before Apparating with Fred back out of their room.

Left in peace, the three were able to tidy up a bit and pull on their Muggle clothes before leaving their room. On their way downstairs, they exchanged shouted Merry Christmases with the other occupants of the house.

Breakfast was a cheery occasion, despite Mrs Weasley's red eyes and the abandoned package still sitting on the window ledge. Each of the Weasley kids wore a knitted jumper over their Muggle clothes. Tonks had a wide knitted scarf around her shoulders, and even Sirius was wearing a thick pair of brightly coloured woollen socks. When Sandry came down, Briar laughed to see her wearing a knitted cap with blue stripes.

"We're going to go down to St Mungo's after breakfast to give our Christmas greetings to Arthur, would any of you like to come?" Mrs Weasley asked as she handed a plate of fresh pancakes hot from the stove to Lupin.

"Sure, I'd like to come," he replied, taking a pancake and passing the plate along the table.

"I will too," Hermione said.

In the end, Lupin, Hermione, Sandry and the two Aurors decided to go with the Weasleys. They were just finishing up with breakfast when there was a loud honk from outside.

Ginny, who had been keeping watch at the window, cried out, "Mum, it's Mundungus!"

"Oh, good, he's right on time," she replied.

The group scurried to get ready, and within five minutes were on their way to the hospitals in Mundungus' car. While Sirius placed Self-Cleaning Charms on the dishes piled in the kitchen sink, Harry led Briar to the sitting room, where he pulled out a chess set and proceeded to teach Briar how to play wizard's chess.

"The goal of the game is to get your opponent's king into checkmate position, that's when he's cornered and can't make any more moves. You move your pieces around the board trying to trap the king. If you land on a square that has one of your opponent's pieces on it, you capture that piece, take it out of play. In the same way your pieces can be captured by your opponent. But the thing that makes it tricky is that each of your pieces can only move in certain patterns.

"Your weakest character is the pawn; they move one square forward at a time, unless it's the first move, then they can go two. The pawn is the weakest because they can't land on occupied squares; they have to capture pieces on a diagonal. On the other extreme is the queen, she can go any number of squares in any direction. The king is in the middle of the two, he can go in any direction but only one square at a time. With me so far?" Harry asked, setting out the pieces on the board.

"Yeah, it's pretty straightforward. What about the horses and those pointy guys?"

"The knights move in L shapes, or in a backwards L.. it's basically three squares in one direction and one in another. Like, you could move three squares forward and one to the right. The 'pointy guys' are called bishops; they move in diagonal lines, however many squares you want." Harry pulled another piece shaped like a turret out of his bag. "This is the rook, or castle. They move in straight lines, again in whatever distance you want." He placed the piece on the board.

"Alright, let's play," Briar said, looking the pieces over.

"One last thing. You can move your pieces by hand, or direct them on what square to go to," Harry told him, pointing out the numbers and letters written along the side of the board.

"Good to know. Can I be the black pieces?"

"Sure. As white, I'll go first."

Their game progressed slowly. Harry gave Briar plenty of time to analyze the board and study the different pieces before each move. He quickly got the hang of it, and soon the friendly atmosphere of their game became much more competitive. Sirius came to watch them, cheering both boys on and frequently offering to help Briar, arguing that the game wasn't really fair since Harry was second only to Ron. That only spurred him on more to do his best to win the game.

The board had been steadily emptied of pieces when the doorbell rang, followed immediately after by the shrill screams of old Mrs Black. Grumbling, Sirius got to his feet and went down the hall, silencing his mother's portrait in the middle of her cursing.

"Pawn to E4," Briar directed.

"What are you doing here?" he heard Sirius' faint voice say blankly as Harry contemplated the board.

"Stop gaping, Black, and let me in, it's snowing if you hadn't noticed, all holed up in your house," came a dry voice that surprised both boys. Briar raised his brow at Harry, who shrugged and waved his rook on to capture one of Briar's bishops. Outside, the two men in the hall continued talking in low tones to each other, their voices slowly getting louder as they came down the hall.

Sirius pushed the door to the sitting room open and led Snape inside. He immediately flopped onto the couch, leaving Snape with no alternative but to sit in the last remaining chair in the room, an elaborately carved yet highly uncomfortable wooden armchair. Sweeping his long robes around him, he sat down and immediately turned to the boys.

"I was supposed to speak to you alone, Potter, but as Black has.. _insisted_ on staying.." Snape trailed off with a disapproving sneer and said pointedly, "Moss, would you be so kind as to leave?"

"Anything you say to Harry you can say in front of us," Sirius said firmly. Briar nodded in agreement, stopping when Snape glared at him.

"Very well, stay, I know you like to feel involved."

Sirius frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Merely that I know it must be frustrating for you, to know that there is nothing_ useful_ you can do for the Order." Turning back to Harry, Snape continued, "The Headmaster has sent me to tell you, Potter, that it is his wish for you to study Occlumency this term."

Harry looked at him blankly. "Study what?"

"_Occlumency,_ Potter," Snape repeated. "It is a magical defence of the mind against external penetration. An obscure branch of magic, but extremely useful, and very powerful when mastered."

Harry glanced at Briar, clearly startled and disturbed by this, before asking quickly, "Why do I have to study Occu- occlu- occluthing?"

"Because the Headmaster thinks it is a good idea," was Snape's smooth answer, if such a response could even be called an answer, Briar thought.

"How's Harry going to be studying this?" Sirius questioned.

"He will get private lessons once a week - lessons that must stay private, especially from Dolores Umbridge," Snape said with a surprisingly meaningful look at them both.

"Who's going to be teaching me?" was Harry's wary response.

At once, Snape had the old sneering expression on his face again. "I am."

Harry groaned quietly, Briar looking at him in sympathy. "Why not Dumbledore, if he's the one wanting me to take it anyways?" he asked with a touch of desperation.

"I assure you, I did not beg for the job. It is part of the Headmaster's duty to delegate.. _less enjoyable_ tasks." Snape got to his feet. "I will be expecting you at 6 o'clock on Monday evening, Potter. My office. If any questions come up, you are to tell the questioners that you are taking remedial Potions. I doubt anyone who has seen your work in class would find that suspicious. Now, if there aren't any more questions.."

"I've actually got one, Professor," Briar spoke up suddenly.

Snape turned to him with an exasperated look, and he quickly confirmed, "Not about this Occlumency thing, that's between you and Harry. No, I was actually wondering about the mark you gave me-"

"-for your essay on the Confusing and Befuddlement Draught? Likening the herbal ingredients to ones found on your planet will not earn you extra points, Moss. If you don't know enough material to stick to what we've learned in class during your reports, then perhaps it is time you made a visit to the library; I'm sure there will be some books there that will keep your interest for more than twenty minutes at a time."

"No, Professor, it's not that, I wouldn't expect you to give me extra points for having knowledge unavailable to the rest of the school," Briar said, trying with difficulty to keep the slightly mocking tone out of his voice. "I was actually going to point out that you marked me wrong for saying that sneezewort shouldn't be added as a raw ingredient into the potion, when I know for a fact that its properties would better contribute to the potion's purpose if it was crushed first."

Snape was silent for a moment and then said curtly, "We learn by the book, Moss, not by whatever otherworldly instincts run rampant in your brain."

"But wouldn't you agree that it's wrong to teach inferior material to students? Shouldn't the knowledge generated by others who are more advanced in specific areas be added to the class material in those same areas, in order to increase the general knowledge of the population and better contribute to the magical society?"

Snape just looked at him and then turned to leave the room. "I suggest you pass your enlightening thoughts to the Headmaster, Moss. Good day."

Sirius, who had been looking blankly back and forth between the two, jumped to his feet and followed Snape down the hall. Harry stared at Briar, who grinned at him and said airily, "Just testing a theory."

"What theory is that? The theory of how best to confuse someone completely, to the point where life doesn't make sense anymore?"

Briar rolled his eyes. "It wasn't that confusing."

"Combining it with the fact that you were criticizing Snape, it was."

Briar considered that for a moment, then shook his head. "Yes and no. You see, I wasn't criticizing Snape, I was.. pointing out errors in his teaching.. ok, criticizing his teaching.. but with clear evidence and reasonable arguments. Therefore, no detention."

Harry blinked and looked away, his eyes widening suddenly before looking back at Briar and saying softly, "You took a pretty big risk there, mate."

Briar shrugged. "It was a risk that paid off. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I feel some uprising tension in the hall that should probably be interfered with to avoid some kind of major catastrophe."

"What?"

Briar got to his feet and led Harry out of the room. Once in the hall, it appeared that the two men had barely made it to the door before breaking into argument.

"I've warned you, _Snivellus_," Briar heard Sirius whisper threateningly as they came closer to the pair, "I don't care what Dumbledore thinks, I know better."

"Well, why don't you tell him so? Or are you too afraid that he won't take seriously the advice of someone hiding in his mother's house?"

Sirius' nostrils flared. "Who's hiding? Lucius Malfoy, perhaps? I expect he's pleased that his lapdog's working for him at Hogwarts."

"Speaking of _dogs,_ did you know that said Malfoy recognized you on your last trip outside? Clever idea, Black, getting yourself seen on a safe station platform.. gave you a good excuse to push the action along for those of us who are allowed to leave our hidey-holes, didn't it?"

Sirius reached to pull his wand from his robes; before his hand even touched the wand, Harry jumped in front of him, years of Quidditch training clearly not forgotten in his temporary absence. Snape's wand was in his hand by now as well.

"Are you calling me an interfering coward? 'Cause I think that term better suits yourself," Sirius said angrily as he tried to push Harry out of the way.

"Why, yes, I suppose I am," Snape responded, his wand twitching.

Briar was dying to get involved. As strange as it felt to admit, even his _shirt_ seemed to agree with him, the long sleeves trying to push his knives into his hands. Repressing the urge, he instead pulled out his wand just in case a fight started, keeping a wary eye on both men as they stared each other down. Harry continued to stand defensively between them, as if he could hold off their anger with his hands.

Briar guessed about ten seconds passed in absolute silence, save for their heavy breathing and the low growl in Sirius' throat. Just when it looked like the tension between the two was too much for them to bear, the front door swung open and the rest of the household crowded in through the doorway with Mr Weasley in the front.

"Completely cured!" he announced cheerfully to the room at large, before realizing what was happening in front of him. Snape and Sirius turned their heads towards the group at the door, wands pointing at each others' faces, while Harry and Briar stayed immobile between and next to them.

A faint grin tugged at Briar's mouth, amused at the scene before him as the Weasley family, Lupin, Tonks, Moody, Hermione and his sister froze in the entry and stared at the four.

"Merlin's beard," Mr Weasley finally said, "what's going on here?"

Sirius and Snape lowered their wands at the same time. Sirius glared warningly at Snape as the latter pocketed his wand, giving them a curt nod before sweeping past the Weasleys. He left the house, only pausing briefly to call over his shoulder, "Six o'clock Monday evening, Potter," and then he was gone.

"What's been going on?" Mr Weasley repeated, the serious look on his face dulled slightly by the fact that he was still wearing boldly striped pyjamas underneath his winter coat.

"Nothing, Arthur, just a friendly little chat between two old school friends," Sirius said, still looking a bit angry as he tucked his wand away. With an effort, he smiled. "So, you're cured? That's great news. Really great.."

"Yes, isn't it?" Mrs Weasley took over, helping her husband take off his coat and handing it to Fred to hang up. She led him to a chair, continuing to tell them that an antidote had been found to the poison in the snake's fangs. "And Arthur's learned his lesson about dabbling in Muggle medicine, _haven't you, dear?_" she finished, rather menacingly.

"Yes, Molly," said Mr Weasley meekly.

"Now you just sit there and rest, and we'll get dinner ready straight away," she instructed, Transfiguring the lamp on the end-table into a thick blanket for him.

Sirius nodded briskly. "The turkey is all ready to go; I'll just cast a quick Thawing Charm on it, then we can stuff it and put it in the oven. Fred and George, perhaps you two can help me with the stuffing. Um, let's see.. Ron, Harry and Briar, between the three of you I bet you can get some wicked potato and other vegetable salad-y type dishes rolling. What else is there, Molly?"

"That's it for dinner, since the buns are pre-made. Ginny, Hermione, Sandry, I could use your help to get the desserts ready. And that leaves Remus and Alastor to get some other supplies; we'll need more firewood, and some candles too, I think there might be some in the attic-"

"We can find something, Molly, thanks," Lupin said, pulling his coat back on. "I'll run outside and grab the firewood, Mad-Eye, there's nothing like a good natural wooden fire to clear the mind."

"And the sinuses," grunted Moody with a half smile as he stumped upstairs.

"Wait," Sirius said suddenly, "what about my dear cousin?"

Tonks grinned, twisting a curl of her electric blue hair around her fingers. "I'm making my famous eggnog, of course," she informed him.

"Of course," Sirius sighed. "Come on, boys, into the kitchen it is!"

Briar had never seen a meal made so quickly. With everyone having a job to do and magic to speed the process up even more, time went by incredibly fast. While mashing potatoes in a large bowl, he mentioned this to Tonks, who laughed and replied, "That's the wizarding world for you; systematically impatient."

"So you always make the eggnog?" he asked her.

"Yup. I'm not much of a cook, but I can make a mean glass of eggnog."

"Mean here having the definition of hard to ingest," Sirius put in, overhearing their conversation.

Tonks shook her mixing spoon at him threateningly. "You're just jealous. I have skills with eggs."

Sirius shook his head. "Please. The last time you cooked an omelette, you sent your own father to the hospital."

"I forgot he was lactose intolerant! Which is really easy to do, being surrounded by allergy-free wizards all day," Tonks insisted. "And I had a prestigious enough reputation in the Ministry that I was able to get those Healers to go undercover at a reduced rate to fix him up and spell his allergies away."

"Bringing up your _job_ of all things doesn't give you any headway in this debate."

Briar put his head down on the table, his shoulders shaking with laughter at hearing the two adults arguing like kids. Realizing this, Sirius whacked him with a fork, spraying bits of stuffing across the table. "Back to work!"

Within minutes, their meal was completely ready. Mrs Weasley and the girls came up from getting the desserts ready in the pantry while the finishing touches were made. Moody floated about twenty lighted candles into the chandelier above the table, Briar and Ron set out plates and utensils for everyone, Lupin helped Mr Weasley into the kitchen, Mrs Weasley tapped their Christmas tree with her wand and set magical gusts of snow to blowing about the room, and Tonks proudly sprinkled some last-minute spices into her pitcher of eggnog.

With that, they sat down for a marvellous feast that lasted well into the night. After all the food was finished up, pudding and cookies were brought out, as well as a large iced cake. They stayed up late, chatting and laughing with each other.

As Briar looked around at the cheerful faces, it was almost too easy to forget about school, final exams and even his two missing sisters in the excitement of Christmas. But nice as it was to be sitting with such a happy group of people, not to mention eating such delicious food, he couldn't wait to get back to Hogwarts. And not just because of the Quidditch game, either. Without his sisters, all his sisters, life just felt a bit stranger.

He returned from his musings just in time to see Tonks dump a mug of eggnog into Sirius' hair. The room burst into laughter and a temporary food fight ensued, paused only when the twins' cracked open a pair of loud Christmas crackers. Smiling, he didn't get up to grab a cracker like the rest of the teenagers, instead giving a final glance around the room.

In the chair beside his, Sandry met his eyes. She, at least, could understand exactly how he was feeling. There were some things even their internal connection wasn't needed for.


	30. Chapter 27

Chapter 27 - More Forays Into this Strange World

Daja yawned and stretched out across the bed before interlocking her fingers behind her head. Staring up, she traced with her eyes a thin beam of sunlight that was slowly making its way across the low ceiling. It soon hit a string of beads left over from their decorating spree; it reflected off a particularly shiny bead and sent out miniatue rays in a vaguely cross-shaped pattern, the sight reminding her of their Christmas eve.

The Lovegoods had taken Tris and Daja along with them on one of their Christmas traditions. Xenophilius took each one in turn by Side-Along Apparition - a method Daja found similar to Portkey, except with the peculiar feeling of having her limbs wrapped in impossible directions around her - to a sheltered corner by the wizarding community of Godric's Hollow. Muggles lived there too, so no one lived openly as wizards, but the area was still primarily magical.

"A lot of the oldest pureblood families have lived here at some time or other," Luna told them quitely as they followed her father down the road. "Quite a few of them still own houses here, I'll show you around after the service."

A bit farther down the road, they came to the Godric Hollow church, a rustic wooden building with a high angled roof and a sign that informed passers-by it was a part of the Church of England. There, they joined the thick stream of people lined up to go through the open doors.

"Good evening, Mr and Miss Lovegood," an elderly woman in a red coat greeted them in the foyer.

"Good evening, madam, and happy Christmas!" Xenophilius beamed. "How are you this fine wintery evening?"

"I'm very well, thank you. And who are these young ladies?" she asked as Tris reddened from the attention.

"Friends of my Luna's, from her school, coming to visit over the holidays," he said proudly.

"How marvelous! I hope you enjoy our service," she said to them.

"I'm sure we will," Daja replied for them both before Luna led them into the main part of the church.

They were herded into a long wooden pew, where Tris and Daja sat awkwardly throughout the service. They followed along as best as they could, but Daja at least soon gave up and spent much of the time admiring the structure of the building.

Two parts of the service managed to catch her attention. After a few songs and readings from a book, the priest (who seemed similar to the dedicates at Winding Circle, except in more of a leadership role in the church) came up to a platform at the front. He made a long speech on the meaning of Christmas, frequently talking about a God and a son of the God. Shortly after this, there came a time when the audience was taken up, pew by pew, to have something called communion. The priest said it was the body and blood of this son of God, which Daja found a funny metaphor for pieces of bread and wine.

Though the service had been interesting to watch and listen to, both girls were relieved when it ended with a final song and they were able to leave. While Xenophilius stayed behind in the church hall to drink tea and talk to some of the other churchgoers, Luna took them outside to show them around the Hollow.

As they walked along the snow covered paths, Daja soon realized that it was fairly easy to tell where the properties changed from Muggle to magical. The smaller, more modern looking houses were new to the neighbourhood, added by Muggles, wheras anything older, castle-like or on large rolling estates was almost guaranteed to be owned by magical folk.

As they were walking past the houses, Tris pointed out one that was falling apart and overgrown with bushes. It seemed to be abandoned, but the gate was padlocked, and as they walked past it a magical sign rose wobbily into the air.

"It's the Potter house," Luna said as they read the sign. "Technically Harry still owns it, but no one's used it in years."

"_On this spot, on the night of 31 October 1981, Lily and James Potter lost their lives; their son, Harry, remains the only wizard to have survived the Killing Curse. This house, invisible to Muggles, has been left in its ruined state as a monument to the Potters and as a reminder of the violence that tore apart their family_," Daja read quietly from the sign. She looked up at the house, destroyed not by time as it had originally appeared to be, but by magic and spells more powerful than anything she could have done. Maybe Tris could forcibly tear apart a building, but the rest of them could only manipulate certain materials. Even academic mages from their home had a specialty area they studied in; they weren't able to just take some classes and learn everything at once. This building, on the other hand, had had an entire floor blasted apart by wand-magic, the same magic that made the sign invisible and could have repaired the building.

"Well," Tris said finally, turning back to Luna, "where to next?"

"There's one place my father and I always go to," she replied in a tone more serious than usual. "It's really the only reason why we come here every year."

She led them down another path that looked much less used than the others. Turning a corner, they walked through a metal gate and directly into a graveyard.

"My mother's buried here," Luna told them. "She's the one who took us to church and everything. The graveyard itself is a bit impersonal, but it still reminds me of her. Do you mind?" They shook their heads and Luna left them, wandering off to the far corner.

Daja felt a bit uncomfortable here, and she could tell that Tris felt the same. They walked carefully along the rows of headstones, slowly making their way to the middle of the graveyard where a large memorial of some sort had been placed there.

Like the Potter's house, it changed as they came near it. The obelisk covered with names shifted into a statue of three people; a man, woman, and young child. It was carved out of marble as white as the snow, making it easy to read the names of Lily and James Potter engraved along the bottom, as well as the phrase _The last enemy to be destroyed is death._

_Sure are a lot of Potter memorials here,_ Tris remarked.

_Yeah. What happened to them, it seems like it was a really big thing for the wizard community. They're legends, really._

Tris looked it over once more, and then said_ Let's head back._

With a last look at the statue, Daja turned to walk in the direction Luna had gone. Circling around a wide headstone, they saw that Xenophilius had returned and was standing with his daughter at a smaller grave.

Glancing up as they drew closer, Luna smiled at them and nudged her father.

"Mhm?" He looked distractedly up from the headstone, apparently having been deep in thought.

"Let's go home."

"Oh, right." Xenophilius stood up on his toes to peer over a wall of hedges grown at the edge of the fence. Looking as well, Daja saw that behind it was the back of the church, which surprised her; though they had walked past many houses and along several roads, they had come back where they started. It really was a small town.

"I'll take you two first," Xenophilius said, holding out his hands towards them.

"Don't you have to take us one at a time?" Tris asked him.

"It's easier, but I can take you both."

Reassured, they held onto his arms. Daja closed her eyes tightly as Xenophilius spun to the side, taking a final breath before the intense pressure started up around her as they moved through space..

..Was that really only two nights ago? She couldn't believe how fast the time had gone.

With sunlight now filling the entire room, she finally got up and pulled on a deep mahogany tunic and leggings. As she packed her other tings back into her trunk, Daja noticed that her sister's bed was empty, though with the door to the roof left slightly ajar it wasn't much of a mystery where Tris had gone.

Sure enough, when she went out on the roof a few minutes later, there was Tris curled up with a blanket. Where she slept, the roof was bare, yet piled everywhere else was a thick cover of snow. Daja waded through it, shaking her sister's shoulder gently when she got to her. "Wake up, Tris."

Tris mumbled something incoherent and rolled over, prompting Daja to shake her again insistently until finally the redhead opened her eyes. "What?" she said blearily.

"It's time to get up." Daja found her glasses and handed them to her.

"Oh. Right." Tris shoved the glasses on her nose and got up stiffly. "I moved out here in the night. The sky was really dark, I could see the stars so clearly," she explained as she rolled up her blanket. "I decided to just sleep out here, that way I wouldn't miss it." She paused a moment before rephrasing, "That is, I wouldn't miss anything that I wasn't asleep for."

Daja followed her footprints back to the door. "I'm surprised you were able to keep a shield up while you were sleeping."

"Really?" Tris looked around herself, noticing the almost perfect snow-free circle around her. "Huh. I didn't realize that.. hey, wait up!" she added quickly, trying to keep her nightgown dry as she hopped over snowdrifts to catch up. "Why the hurry this morning?"

Daja turned around, giving her sister a meaningful look. "It's the 26th, Tris, remember? The Hogwarts Express leaves at noon."

Tris' eyes widened. "Merlin's pants! I forgot!" she cried, diving down the stairs in front of Daja.

"Merlin's pants?" Daja repeated with a grin which Tris ignored as she frantically threw books into her trunk. Daja left her there, still chuckling to herself as she made her way down the winding stairs. Luna's room was empty when she walked past, the delicious smells of breakfast making its way through the air and increasing the quickess of her steps to the kitchen.

"There you are," Luna greeted her cheerfully from the stove where she was flipping pancakes.

"Hey, Luna. You're up pretty early."

"I like getting up early. It's a good time to think. Would you like some pancakes?"

"That sounds great, thanks for making them." Daja pulled plates and glasses down from the cupboards and set the table, pausing at Xenophilius' chair to ask Luna where he was.

"Dad went to dig out the car, it's snowed into the garage," Luna told her, pouring more batter into the frying pan.

"Maybe I'll go help him out first, then," Daja said, turning towards the front door.

"You can look to see if he needs help first. He won't like it if you come out in the cold only to find that he's all finished up," she said, waved the spatula towards the kitchen window as she spoke.

Daja went over to it instead, craning her neck to try and see through the frost on the window before remembering that the frame was metal. Touching the windowframe, she heated it up to melt away a thin stripe around the window. Through it, she could just make out the thin figure of Xenophilius in front of a huge pile of snow before a fireball burst from his wand and he was obscured by the bits of snow and smoke flying through the air.

"He seems to be doing all right," she commented, turning around to see that Luna had seated herself at the table. Daja helped herself to pancakes and sausages and sat down with her; they had just started eating when Tris burst down the stairs, her trunk bumping on each step behind her. She stacked it with Luna's at the door and joined them, eating ravenously.

"Snow makes me hungry," she mentioned partway through her second helping of breakfast. "Originally I thought it was something to do with the particle makeup, or because I've never encountered it before, but really it's made quite similar to rain and hail so now I'm not sure what it is."

Swallowing a mouthful of sausage, Daja pointed out, "You slept outside most of last night, maybe it was just the fresh air."

"Maybe," Tris replied, not looking convinced.

Luna piped up, "It could be the snuffleufs." At their expressions, she further explained, "They're tiny animals that live in snowflakes. The hairs from their bodies transfer chemicals into the snowflakes, causing them to absorb small amounts of nutrients from any living creature they land on."

Tris blinked. "That's.. interesting, but I really hope that's not it."

"What's not it?" came a voice from the door as it banged open. Startled, Daja turned around in her chair to see it was a snow-coated yet cheerful looking Xenophilius.

"Snuffleufs, Dad," Luna told him as he pulled off his boots and came into the kitchen.

"Ah, the Snuffleuf, a truly fascinating creature!" he exclaimed as he wrung out his beard at the sink. "Don't worry, Trisana, the effects take a little while to wear off but they won't do any real damage. They're not parasites, after all. The chemicals in their hair is merely an adaptation to the winter; living in snowflakes, they have a hard time finding food, especially as the temperature drops and they enter hibernation. The life of the Snuffleuf is incredibly short, especially in England, though I've heard rumours that up in the Arctic they can live for hundreds of years." He shook his head, filling a plate with food. "Of some of life's great mysteries we shall never solve." Hanging his dripping coat over the back of his chair, Xenophilius sat down to eat, and the rest of the meal was finished in companiable silence.

_Do you know how Sandry and Briar are getting back to Hogwarts?_ Tris asked as Daja got up to take her dishes to the sink.

_I'm not sure; we didn't get any other letters from them after that one Briar sent,_ Daja replied. "I'm going to bring my trunk down," she said out loud as she headed for the staircase.

"Okay, while you're doing that we can make sandwiches for the train," Luna suggested.

"Good idea, Luna, multitasking is crucial when we're on such short time," Xenophillius said, getting up from his seat. "I'll get the car started up, it takes forever in this weather." His words were confirmed ten minutes later, when Daja had carefully carried both her trunk and Briar's _shakkan_ downstairs, the sandwiches and the dishes had been finished, and he was still outside trying to get the car to start.

"What happens if we miss the train to Hogwarts?" Tris asked in a strained voice as she watched him banging on the hood of the car.

"Relax, we won't miss the train," Luna said, clearly unconcerned. "The engine's just a bit slow to warm up, that's all. Dad never did get the mechanical apprenticeship for wizarding vehicles he was thinking about, so we can't just use some spells to fix it up. All we can do is wait." Seeing the look on Tris' face, she smiled reassuringly at her. "If he has to, Dad will Apparate us straight to the platform. Worse comes to worse, we can send a letter to the school and one of the teachers will come and collect us. We could even contact the Ministry, although that's not recommended right now because Umbridge would probably make it really hard on us, but we could still try. Alright?"

"Anything's better than just having to sit around and wait," the redhead muttered, pacing across the room. "Even Umbridge.. actually, no, Umbridge would be worse. I'd take Snape over her any day. He's really not that bad, much better than Binns at least.."

Talking about the school seemed to distract her, at least briefly, and that was what they were still doing when Xenophilius finally came bouncing up to the door. "Got it running and everything! I didn't even have to refill the gas tank like last time!" he beamed.

They quickly packed their trunks into the back of the car before filing in; Luna and her father in the front seats, Tris and Daja in the back, with the _shakkan_ held as carefully as possible between them. Xenophilius stuck his knight key into the horse-shaped hole and jabbed at the triangular button above it, and with his obvious pride the engine sputtered just once before coming to life and growling smoothly.

Xenophilius steered the car around snowdrifts and gradually got them out the Lovegood's gate. Once again opening the wings, he slowly increased the speed of the car until it was able to rise into the air; however, as they flew up higher, the clouds continued to get thicker until it looked like they might be forced to return to the ground.

_I really don't want to have to spend this whole trip bouncing along these country roads,_ Tris stated as she fiddled with her braids. _Or icy roads either, for that matter. _Seemingly out of nowhere, a gust of wind blew around them and scattered enough clouds so that they could at least see where they were going.

"Thank you, Tris," said Luna, not missing anything as Xenophilius peered through the dark windows and, confident of their location, sped up towards London.

Accompanied by Tris impatiently rapping her fingers against the window, they finally pulled up across the street from King's Cross Station, barely a half-hour before the train was scheduled to leave.

"Come on, we have to hurry!" the redhead said anxiously as she pulled her trunk out of the car.

"Do you and Daja have tickets?" Xenophilius asked her, and as she shook her head he continued, "Then it's good I have extras. Here you go, two tickets for Platform 9 3/4, make sure you don't lose them!"

"Of course not," she said gratefully, taking the slips of paper and tucking them into her pocket.

"Well then, thank you very much for doing me the honour of having Luna's friends come to visit," Xenophilius said sincerely as he held the _shakkan_ for Daja while she got her trunk. "I must say, it was wonderful to have guests around for the holidays."

"Thank you for having us on such short notice," Daja smiled as she cradled Briar's _shakkan_ to her chest.

"It was my pleasure! Have a good rest of school year, good luck on your exams.. goodbye, Luna my dear." He waved them off, smiling as they ran across the street towards the station.

They made their way through the busy station, pausing only to check that no one was watching before stepping through the pillar between Platforms 9 and 10. On the magical platform, hundreds of students - some in Muggle clothes, others already in their school robes - were jostling to get on the train. It could best be described as organized chaos; kids of all ages pushing to get in line, Prefects directing the flow of students onto the train, parents calling out last minute good-byes, trunks piled everywhere amid puddles of melted snow, owls hooting from their cages and flying around the heads of the travellers, and the train adding its own occasional whistles as it waited for the commotion to settle down and its passengers to board.

The girls got in line and were soon on the train, looking for an empty compartment. As they walked down the narrow hall, a door behind them slid open and a voice called out, "Over here!"

"Thanks, Neville," Daja said, heaving her trunk onto the rack before sitting down beneath it.

He sat opposite her, moving over to make room for Luna. "No problem. Had a good holiday?"

"It was really fun," she grinned, "how about you?"

"It was alright." Neville paused and then added, "I saw Briar at St Mungo's hospital with the Weasley's last week."

"Really?" Tris asked.

"Yeah, apparently Mr Weasley was attacked, they were there visiting him."

"Oh, right, we heard about that," Daja said, leaving out how exactly they had heard of it.

"Y'know, Harry woke up the night before Christmas break, saying something like that, and then it actually happened," Neville continued, frowning out the window. "It's kind of weird when you think about it."

"Um. Hm," Daja managed, glancing at Tris.

"Maybe he's.. got some Seer blood.." Tris suggested weakly. Thankfully, they were spared from having to continue the subject further, as the train started up with a jerk and clouds of steam rolled past their window.

Daja fiddled with the _shakkan_ pot on her lap, staring out the window as they left London behind. Beside her, Tris hopped off the bench, standing up on her toes so that she could reach her trunk. Pulling out a textbook, she snapped the lid shut and sat back down.

"You're opening school books already? We're not even at Hogwarts yet," Neville said with surprise.

Tris shrugged, flipping through the pages. "Might as well get a head start on it."

"That's a good idea, Tris. I need to complete my astrology map," Luna piped up, unfolding a star chart. "Do you have a quill?"

Daja lent her one, taking one of the sandwiches they had previously made in return. She was half-way through it when the short figure of Colin Creevey appeared at their door. Neville waved him in, and immediately the younger boy ran up to Tris.

"All right, Tris?" he asked, and at her bemused nod, held out an envelope to her. "Here, it's a copy of the picture I took in the carriage, remember? My dad's a Muggle, he thought it was amazing to see someone controlling lightning!" Pausing to take a breath, he added, "Thanks again for the picture, I should get back to my compartment now, my brother's waiting for me. See you! Bye, Neville!" He hurried out the door, banging it shut behind him.

"Does he always have that much energy?" Tris asked, seemed a bit dazed by the suddenness of his visit.

Neville laughed. "Ever since we met him. You should have seen him, followed Harry around all over the place in his first year. Drove him crazy too. He was always trying to take pictures and get his autograph."

Luna, who had been blowing on her map to dry it, looked up and said to Tris, "Aren't you going to open it?"

Tris sighed and ripped open the envelope. Pulling the picture out, she glanced at it and smiled weakly before handing it to them.

Daja took it and grinned, a bit taken aback at the accuracy of the picture. Her sister stared out at her, eyes serious behind thin glasses, her mouth twitching as though she was on the verge of smiling. Lightning rolled off her fingers and flickered through her hair. Though the focus was Tris, she could make out partial figures of herself and Hermione seated beside her. The picture was moving like the pictures at Hogwarts, except that while their movements were free, Colin's camera had captured just a few seconds in time that were now being played repetitively.

_I'm a bit surprised at how it turned out,_ Tris confessed in her head._ It's hard to imagine how I must look to other people._

_Beautiful as always,_ Daja joked, handing the picture over to the others.

_Yeah, beautiful like a Thestral tearing up animals,_ was Tris' sarcastic reply.

"Colin's camera is pretty high quality," Neville commented, handing the picture back to Tris. "His pictures always turn out great."

"How do the cameras take moving pictures?" Daja asked him.

"There's a couple different ways. Either you can make up a special potion to develop the film in, or you can use enchanted film. The first option's cheaper and easier; you can take pictures with a Muggle camera and just develop the film in a different solution. With wizard film, it's recommended that you use a specially made camera. Hypothetically, if you replaced the film in a Muggle camera with wizard film, you could still take moving pictures, but cameras designed to use magical film will often take better pictures. After you take pictures on enchanted film, you can develop them in regular solution."

"Okay.. and what's film, exactly?"

"Oh. Um, it's like miny sheets of parchment rolled up inside the camera. When you take the picture, it.. draws the image in the film.. and then you take out the tiny pieces of film and soak them in, well, a potion in this case, I'm not sure exactly how it works but it makes the picture, except it's tiny because the film is really small, so then you project it onto bigger sheets of paper and, um, make it bigger somehow.. " Neville was trying to explain to her, when all of a sudden there was a bang from the hall.

The sleek blonde head of Draco Malfoy came around the door. "Well, well, well," he drawled, leaning against the doorframe while his two companions (whose names Daja always got mixed up) stood awkwardly outside.

Daja crossed her arms, mimiking his posture. "Well, well, well, yourself," she said unconcernedly before remarking to the others, "Aren't we popular today? Two visitors in a half hour. That's five for you, Neville."

"Twenty minutes, actually," Luna corrected, returning her attention to her star chart.

At their blatant lack of a reaction, Malfoy rolled his eyes and said in a louder tone, directed at his companions, "They were saying down at the end of the train that this was the Misfits compartment, and I guess they were right." Looking at the four, he continued, "Let's see.. we've got Loony, Sparky, Longbottom, and a loner with a tree. I commend your variety."

"Some of us are trying to read," Tris muttered, glancing up at him. "Do you need anything, or are you just here to try and manipulate us into providing entertainment for you and your cronies? Because, quite frankly, there are much better ways to be wasting your time."

"Thanks for your concern, but I'd much rather spend my time this way," was his reply. Glancing around, he added, "Where's your sister, Sparks? Did she somehow manage to get killed by a Bludger in the off season?"

"Not that I'm aware of," she said, turning another page in her textbook.

"Just as well. Don't want to ruin that face. It's not as nice as some of the girls I know, but definately better than average for alien freaks like yourselves."

"I could care less what you say about me, but keep your mind off my sister, Malfoy," Tris said, her voice sounding tenser. "I know more than one clumsy kid who'd be highly at risk of 'accidentally' sending a Bludger your way, some day when you least expect it."

"A Bludger is no threat to me," Malfoy laughed. "Have you ever considered anger management therapy? Or just therapy in general?" he added as an afterthought.

"Don't be so cocky, I won't be there next time to help pull more idiots off your mangled corpse," she replied, still looking at her book.

He was silent for a moment, and then added with a sneer, "I don't need a girl to help me. I can take care of myself."

"Really? ..In that case, perhaps a girl will be required to, ahem, _take care _of you." She stared at him darkly, her hair shiny with sparks.

He paled slightly and then retorted with forced cheer, "Your sister can take care of me anytime. You? Not so much." He straightened up and moved away from the door. "I'd love to stay and chat, but we must be off. People to check up on, you know. C'mon, Crabbe, Goyle."

"So long, Malfoy. Don't bite the civilians, they'll bite back," Daja called after him. _You handled that pretty well,_ she added to her sister as Luna reached across to slide the door shut again.

Tris smiled slightly, underlining a sentence in her book. _Thanks, I guess. Malfoy's been a lot easier to handle lately. From what I've seen, he's been a bit less prone to randomly lashing out at people, which is a nice change.._

Neville stared at them both. "Wow, Tris, I wish I could scare people off as easily as you."

She forced out a laugh. "It's sort of a double-edged sword."

Luna glanced between them as she folded up her star chart. "Thanks for the quill, Daja."

"You're welcome." She looked out the window, across a bare expanse of snow-covered fields. _I hope we get to Hogwarts soon._

_You're closer than you think, Daj,_ a voice she hadn't heard in ages replied in her head.

_Briar! Where are you?_

_At the school. You remember Tonks? She took me and Sandry and the Weasley's on the Knight Bus to Hogwarts. I guess they thought it'd be easier. _She could feel him shrugging. _But, well, now we're here super early. It's still _hours_ til dinnertime!_

_I think you can manage that long without more food,_ Tris remarked dryly.

_Hey there, Coppercurls. Fred and George can't wait to meet up with you. _

_Oh, the anticipation.._

_Hang on, let me get Sandry._ There was a brief pause, and then their other sister entered the conversation.

_Hello Daja, Tris, it feels like it's been ages! I can't wait to see you both again!_ Sandry exclaimed. _How was your holiday?_

_Good, er, we're sitting with Luna and Neville in the train, and Neville at least is looking a bit strangely at us for staring off blankly into space so maybe we can go into details later..?_

_Oh, yes, of course.. I know, let's meet up in the disappearing room again after dinner, we can talk then._

_Sounds great. _Briar smirked. _I'll bring the food._

_Briar, it'll be right after dinner, we don't need more food-_

_Nonsense. See you two later!_ Their presences faded in Daja's mind until just a faint shadow of them remained.

She looked away from the window to see that while they had been talking with their siblings, Luna and Neville had started another game of Exploding Snap, this time trying to build houses out of the cards. They immediately invited her and Tris to play with them, and while Tris decided to continue reading instead, Daja joined in. It was a fun variation of the game, though the singed fingers they got after the explosion of a particularly large pyramid made them happy to wrap it up.

Arriving at Hogwarts soon after, Daja handed off the_ shakkan_ to Neville, who had offered to take it up to Briar for her. Bidding a temporary farewell to Tris, she then grabbed her trunk and carried it down the long staircase just beyond the Entrance Hall towards the kitchens and the Hufflepuff common-room.

"Hey, Daja!" Hannah Abbott waved to her from a large yellow armchair as she walked through the portrait hole. "I haven't seen you in a while, how did you like Christmas?"

"A bit cold for me, but it was pretty fun," she replied.

Susan Bones followed her into the room. "The house-elves were saying that dinner's almost ready, we should hurry," she told them before waving to a black-haired girl standing by the fireplace. "Hi there, Meg, how's it going?" she called, walking over to her.

Daja left them in their conversations and headed into one of the small tunnels. Opening the round door at the end of it, she entered her dorm, where she gladly dumped her trunk on the floor beside her bed before leaving.

Tonight's dinner was a particularly loud meal as everyone greeted their friends and shared what they had done over the break. Once the last plate had been emptied and dessert was well on its way, Dumbledore stood up at his seat, sending sparks off his wand to get their attention.

"Welcome back to Hogwarts!" he beamed once the room had quieted down. "Judging by the amount of noise, I trust you all had a fantastic holiday, and that you're all well fed and rested up to begin your classes tomorrow." As groans echoed through the hall, he chuckled and continued, "Well I don't want to cut into your last fifteen-someodd hours of freedom with the ramblings of an old man, so eat and be merry! Pip pip!"

With a fair amount of laughter, the students turned back to their conversations and desserts. Looking around the hall, Daja noticed that Briar's seat was empty, and Tris and Sandry seemed to be getting ready to leave as well. Excusing herself, she left the Hufflepuff table and hurried upstairs to the seventh floor. The faintest of lines against the stone wall caught her attention; the closer she got to it, the more solid it became, until she was close enough to turn the handle and walk in.

Today, the room looked very similar to how it had appeared to them that memorable first day when they were chased into it by Peeves. Briar was already seated at the table, humming to himself as he flipped through a thin book. He glancing up as she came in, and immediately his face broke into a grin.

"Hello, Briar," she greeted him, shutting the door behind her.

"Hey there, Daj, come have some cake," he responded, pulling out the chair beside him for her.

She sat down in it, looking at the pitcher, mugs, and pile of small cakes scattered across the large table. "Where did you get all this?"

"Smuggled the mugs out of the Great Hall; the food and drink is from the kitchen."

"You stole from _Hogwarts?_" Sandry said in disbelief as she and Tris came into the room. Shaking her head, she continued, "Only you, Briar, only you."

Briar rolled his eyes. "Course not. The house elves set me up, they were very helpful. And no, I didn't threaten them, or anything stupid like that. They offered. Plus, if you want to be technical about it, I can't exactly steal from a place that I'm _in_ currently.."

Sandry sighed but smiled. Turning to Daja, she threw her arms around her in a hug. "Daja! I missed you two so much, you wouldn't believe it."

"Missed you too, Sandry."

The brunette looked happily at them all as she sat down at the table. "We're all together again! Isn't that great?"

Tris took a seat beside her. "Indeed," she responded, taking a cake from the platter.

"So..?"

"Er. So?"

"So aren't you going to tell us about your Christmas?" Sandry encouraged.

"Oh, yeah, sure. Well, Luna had invited Tris to come stay with her and her father for Christmas, and she let me tag along, I don't remember if you knew that?" At Briar's nod, Daja continued. "It was pretty simple, we hung around her house a lot. Decorated, did some baking, went to check out the Muggle town nearby, went to a church service in Godric's Hollow. That's about it."

"It was a lot of fun," Tris added. "Going around with them, tagging along to see what kinds of things they did.."

"Is her father just as.. well, wacky?" Briar asked curiously.

Now it was Tris' turn to roll her eyes. "Yes. But he was a really nice person." _They're a bit eccentric in their thinking, but sincere, you know?_ she added thoughtfully in their heads. Briar nodded in agreement.

"So tell us, what were you two up to that whole time?" Daja asked them.

Sandry poured herself a mug of Butterbeer. "I'm sorry we couldn't tell you much of anything, the adults swore us to secrecy. I guess we can tell you the basics though. Let's see. You already know that Mr Weasley was attacked, and Harry saw it happen in his sleep, thus causing all four of us to eventually end up at Dumbledore's office, and then Briar and I went home with the Weasleys-"

"Well, not _home_ with them exactly," Briar interjected. "We went to the house of one of Harry's friends. It's apparently the headquarters for a group fighting against Voldemort."

Tris shuddered. "What did you do there?"

"Don't worry, we didn't get into any fights or anything, just got shut out of a couple meetings between the adults," Briar reassured her with a smile.

"Anyways," Sandry continued, "Tonks stayed with us, and two men, Lupin and Mad-Eye. They're all Aurors, that is, they work at the Ministry, sort of as fighters and protectors. And Harry's friend, Sirius Black. They kept us inside, we spent a lot of time cleaning and decorating the house, and we went to the hospital a couple times to visit Mr Weasley."

Briar coughed. "We also, erm, overheard the adults talking about why Harry saw the attack in his sleep. Since this is supposed to be our last day of freedom and reunion party and all, I guess we'll go more into details later.."

"Why wait? Now you've got us curious, you might as well tell us," Daja pointed out.

Briar looked at her, his grey-green eyes serious. "They think Harry's being possessed by Voldemort."

"Possessed?" Tris was surprised. "I didn't expect that. Don't you have to be near someone in order to possess them?"

"That would make more sense, but apparently Harry's scar connects him to Voldemort somehow, so he might not need to be physically near him," Sandry put in.

The four looked at each other for a bit, their silence interrupted by Briar's heavy sigh. "See? As soon as we start talking and thinking about serious matters, the mood gets serious. Which I guess makes sense, but still, I'd really like one last day of not having to think before we get back into school tomorrow."

"Alright then," Daja said, trying to put the issue of Harry's dream out of her mind for the moment as she took a sip of Butterbeer. _You have the gifts, right?_

_Yup,_ Tris replied, reaching into her bag and setting the paper-wrapped packages on the table."This one's for you, Briar, and Sandry, this is yours."

"Oh right, the presents!" Sandry fumbled in the pocket of her sweater for a moment before pulling them out with a flourish. "Here you go."

"On the count of three, then?" Tris offered. At their nods, she counted down; as soon as she said three, the only sound that could be heard was the sound of paper being torn off.

Daja pulled off the shiny paper to reveal a box about the size of a small brick. According to the label on the side, it was produced by Bonham & Sons and contained 'a wide variety of magical treats, non-allergenic and suitable for all stages of health'.

"I got it from the gift shop at St Mungo's," Sandry explained as she watched her open the box.

"The container must be magical, I can't believe how much they fit in here." Daja was surprised at how small and light the box was, compared to the quantity of treats inside.

"This book looks amazing," Sandry said as she gently opened the cover of her new invisibility book. "I can't wait to read it."

She was interrupted by a burst of laughter from Briar. "What on earth are these seeds?"

"They're actually called Dinckburrs, from a Plumphing Dinckletree. The Lovegood's have been breeding them, they have a whole miniature forest of them on their property," Daja told him.

Briar snorted, reaching through the dirt in the small ceramic pot to brush his fingers against the seeds. "They're funny. I don't know how to explain it in a way you'll understand, but when I feel them - you know, with my magic - they're just _funny_ inside."

"Well, I'm glad you're so amused by them," Tris said as she read the labels on her own box.

_What do you have?_ Daja asked.

"I'm not sure what to think of it," she replied aloud, showing the label to her. "It's called _Clouds-in-a-Box_. There's also a list of ingredients and some warnings on proper use. But I don't understand how it works; it's not possible to just _grow_ a cloud.."

"As usual, you're overthinking it," Briar informed her. "Just open it up and see what happens."

Tris hit him in the shoulder but followed his advice. Reading the instructions on the back, she opened the box and took a pinch of the white powder inside. Closing the box with her other hand, she dropped the powder on the table.

"It says I need to add water," she told them, pulling her wand out of her bag and pointing it into her now-empty mug. "_Aguamenti!_" Once the mug was partially filled, she dipped her fingers in and let a few drops of water fall onto the small pile of powder. For a moment nothing seemed to happen, but soon the bits of powder were swelling up with the water, getting larger and thicker until several of what certainly looked like small clouds had risen up to float above their heads.

Still looking skeptical, Tris watched them as they bobbed gently about three feet off the table. However, her doubt in the box's advertising was soon proved wrong as impossibly small snowflakes began to drift down from the clouds, quickly forming little piles of snow across the table's surface. As she stared with no small amount of shock at the real clouds that had come from a box and were now snowing real snow inside a building, the look on her face slowly changed to one of delight.

"This world's magic never ceases to amaze me," she muttered in slight frustration, reaching up to capture one of the smaller clouds in her hands.

_It looks like you've got your wish, Briar,_ Daja said to them all, directing it at the still-laughing boy with the dusting of snow across his head and shoulders.

He flashed her a broad grin, finally setting down his plant pot in exchange for a half-eaten cake._ Looks like it. Anyone up for an indoor snowball fight?_

**A/N: Thanks for all your amazing reviews and compliments; you're making me blush! x)**


	31. The AN Strikes Back

Hey everybody.

I really thought you all deserved some form of communication with your AWOL authoress, hence this brief-ish update.

Long story short, life has been crazy with a capital _kuh_. Like, my average chapter's about ten pages long, right? I could easily fill up that space and more telling you about what's been going on lately. Oh, the insanity.

Here's a little summary if you're interested (and if not, skip this paragraph). My family moved into a new house fairly recently on an extremely tight time limit, which meant stuffing everything we owned into various boxes and taking it away. Due to this random frenzied packing spree, about half my belongings were misplaced and are still MIA, including my notebook containing all of my chapter outlines for both fanfiction and my original fiction. I'm still pretty bummed about that. Anyways, I started typing what I remembered from it into my computer in hopes of being able to rewrite it even better than I had originally. Ironically I was about three-quarters of the way through this process when we realized that apparently something had happened to our computer while we were moving, causing the hard drive to totally crash and steal my chapter again. The computer monitor itself died shortly after this; it took us a while to get them fixed/replaced. The next couple weeks or so flew by, and between getting extremely extremely sick & completely-out-of-it-to-the-point-of-hallucinating-and-hearing-voices-in-my-head for a while and then being worked to exhaustion on a daily basis from the ridiculously large amount of courses and jobs I'm taking on this semester, well, I find myself yet again sitting down for a break between my duties to realize that, once more, I haven't come anywhere near meeting the goals I set myself for updating this story.

So I guess what I really wanted to say was sorry, again, and please don't lose faith in me, again. I'm ever so slowly starting to get the hang of juggling this messed up life around so that I can actually do some things for myself, like writing, every now and then, and I will be placing first priority on writing this upcoming chapter so that I can get it out to you as soon as possible. But unless my notebook suddenly makes an appearance, it could be a little while longer.

While I'm here; First off, thank you so much to all of you. I try to reply to every review you guys send me, to try and show you just a smidgen of the happiness it makes me feel inside, but I know I miss someone occasionally. I hope you can feel the waves of gratitude I'm sending to you right now. That includes my anon reviewers too. Thank you for sharing in detail both your insight on the story and my writing. You have no idea how I felt when I read that I gave you hope. You give me hope too, and not just the person reading this right now who knows who they are even if I don't, but ALL of you do! The fact that there's still people out there reading fanfiction and taking the time to interact with the author in such a personal way as a review is just plain amazing.

I'd love to write some more to that effect, but I have to be off now or else I'll be late for band rehearsal. I hope you all have been doing wonderfully in your own lives; hopefully we will be able to get in touch through the next real chapter soon.

In the meantime, peace, and keep being the fantastic people you are.

**Lyrannae**


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